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lilligantlover · 2 days

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cs pride headcannons

happy pride month! this is to the gays, lesbians, queers, transgenders, nonbinaries, bisexuals, everyone!!!!! (except homophobes, get away) happy pride month and good job being so fruity! we love u ^_^

ok so basically i have headcanons for my fav pokemon characters, may drew harley n solidad but i never really did much with them but since its literally pride month right now i thought why not draw them? theyre more like chibi attempted weird ass doodles butttttttt

first up, of course, our baby drew.

theres smth about him that just screams transgender.. hes ftm (female to male) since he didnt feel right in his body, but doesnt mind presenting himself in a feminine way. demisexual also because i dont feel like he randomly falls in love with people unless they know them well and have a good bond! and he obviously doesnt care about anyones gender whatsoever, doesnt have a preference either.

he goes by he/they pronouns and would rather not be regarded by feminine names, though he himself doesnt really care about how he appears to others

if someone comes out to drew:

someone: “drew, i have to tell you something.. im lesbian.”

drew: “thats nice”

drew is neutral about this stuff. he simply doesnt mind that much. though inside, secretly, he is pretty proud of whoever comes out to him; he does care.

next up, may!

may is an ally, no doubt. she loves everyone as they are! i debated making her asexual for a hot second, but scrapped it later as i didnt really liked that for her :P

she goes by she/her! she respects everyones pronouns, and if unsure if what pronouns to use she always uses they/them to avoid mis pronouncing. always shows up at pride conventions!

if someone were to come out to may:

someone: “may.. i have to tell you something. im non-binary”

may: “OMG THAT IS SO COOL I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU AND PROUD OF YOU!!!!”

next up, our cunty harley!

hes bisexual and non-binary. he loves both women and men, and simply doesnt give a fuck about (his) gender. he goes by she/he/they pronouns since he really doesnt care what people regard him as. “gender doesnt matter honey!”

he doesnt mind looking feminine or masculine at all, so sometimes u see him skipping around in skirts and the other moment you see him in a suit. and honestly? we love that for him. pop off harley

if someone were to come out to harley:

someone: “hey, harley? can i tell you something? im gay.”

harley: “OOOOOO! so proud of you honey! welcome to the gays!”

and lastly, solidad!

shes a lesbian. i dont care what you have got to say, solidad is a lesbian. she loves women, she loves feminine people. shes also aromantic because i can make her aromantic. she naturally loves platonically, but she can love (and feel) romantically, just not that often.

she herself is also an ally, of course, everyone in these headcanons are, but she is an ally. she supports everyone the way they are, no matter their sexuality, gender, race, background, whatever. she loves everyone. n that goes for may drew and harley also! solidad would probably be the most calm if you were to come out to her, though.

if someone were to come out to solidad:

someone: “solidad? i wanted to tell you that im bisexual..”

solidad: “oh, that’s wonderful! congratulations. i am so proud of you for telling me.”

———————

happy pride month! make sure to love everyone the way they are. love isnt a choice, neither the way you were born or how you feel in your own body! youre good as u are!

im pretty much questioning myself, i mean, im sure im aroace but beside that? no clue. for now id just say im heterosexual, but i havent really fallen for people romantically or sexually so i dont know at all lol

school still isnt over, still have about a month left 💔 i hate the netherlands vacation time so much only 6 weeks for summer break is crazy

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ordinaryschmuck · 24 hours

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I saw a post about how Carmen Santiego has great character designs and diversity through race and body types. I considered it a good post and one that makes a good point...And then below it was a reblog about how a person went "If Carmen Santiego can have a diverse cast of HUMANS, then what the hell is up with Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss?"

First of all...What the hell do either of those two things have in common? They sure are animated shows, I'll give you that. Except that one's a children's animated spy thriller and the other two are adult musical comedy dramas in Hell. Stylistically and tonally, neither of them have anything to do with each other and you just randomly made a point because...you hate Hazbin and Helluva? Cool. Congratulations. Now get a new personality and just fucking watch something else if these two shows made your hatred this obsessed when you randomly attack a show through a post that has NOTHING to do with it. The OP wasn't attacking Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss. Unless they constantly attack it and they made that post to prove a previous point, something that does NOT come across in that original post, there's no reason to go "Hey, why didn't these completely different shows with their own styles take notes of this kids show with ITS unique style?"

And here's the thing: I like Carmen Santiego. I like the way that it looks, and I think its style really is unique compared to other animated series that have come out around the same time. And I do agree that it has a great diverse cast that shows off a lot of body diversity where every single character looks unique in their own way. But here's the thing: I would not go out of my way to attack other shows, to the point where I'd hijack someone else's post to say, "Yeah, this show is WAY better than this other one I hate." And if I had in the past...I'm sorry. I really am sorry. I hate that I acted that way and I will try to do better. Because that's what I do with media criticism or talking about stuff I don't like. I try to act BETTER than I have in the past because that's not how you talk about media. Whether you like it or hate it, it's never a good thing to talk about something you hate when the discussion is about something someone else loves. Sometimes it makes sense, as there are often two products that are similar to each other. Like Marve/DC, Star Wars/Star Trek, and The Owl House/Amphibia. Those are media where there's a lot to compare and contrast, with people being unaware that the main reason why they like the other basically boils down to personal preferences when it comes to consuming media. But with Hazbin/Helluva and Carmen Santiego, there's really NOTHING to compare and you're just going out of your way to talk about something you hate when it's not relevant to the conversation. It's like people who hyped up Puss in Boots: The Last Wish just to shit on Velma. Yeah, The Last Wish is a thousand times better than Velma, but there's nothing similar about both products that make the discussion worth it. You're just using something you love as a weapon towards something you hate.

I get it, people like some things and hate others. It's how we're wired as human beings and I can't stop that. Nor do I think I CAN stop it. But just feel like this is making media discussion worse when all we can think of to do when discussing something we love and bringing in something we hate into the conversation. It's not necessary, and you're feeding the creators that thing you hate by still talking about it. You want to know the best possible way to react to "objectively bad" media? Stop talking about it. Stop watching it. STOP ENGAGING.

If you don't fucking like it, stop consuming this piece of media and go watch something you enjoy instead. Give THAT your time. Show how THAT does everything right and sing its praises. Raise up this one thing that you believe is "objectively good" so it can effectively overshadow this thing you consider "objectively bad." There's a way to discuss media without shitting on something you don't like.

#rant #carmen sandiego #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

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saltwukong · 1 year

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Bitches will literally tell you a story that they were the villain of.

#rwde #''hey lets vent a little by listing all the ships we dont like for whatever reason'' someone get them help. they really think that's normal #y'all be talking about toxicity and then not even knowing what it looks like.#like iunno what you think toxic shipping behavior is SUPPOSED to look like but it looks like exactly this. that's not cute and normal.#like if just an ordinary group of friends did this? maybe. still sus.#but since you all self-indentified as fans of the same ship it just becomes a united front of haters circle-jerking themselves stupid.#not to mention the actual way this post reads like. girl? that's what you thought would make yourself look rational and other people petty?#like really? your go-to exaggerated example of something nasty or uncouth that someone would rabidly defend shipping is...that?#like obvious question 1) what exactly is wrong with gangbangs lol. sorry that you hate fun.#and obvious question 2) uhhh why when crafting a nominal objectioner did you specify 'black' like.......explain it.#tell me how that was supposed to come off because i don't know why you'd say that and not think 'this sounds really racist' unless.....#the whole wide world full of inc/st r/pe abu/se apologia on top of pe/do shit and the villain in your post is.....#someone shipping a pairing that contains a black man. okay.

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baejax-the-great · 10 months

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I think that if you are going to comment a silly little joke about drugs, or if you are going to have a username that is a "cute" play on words about serious addictions, you should consider the odds whether the person you are about to address has personal experience and feelings regarding that particular subject--and the odds are definitely non-zero.

#it's so hard #I have no desire to control others or how they interact with the world #but I also don't enjoy waking up to frankly triggering usernames in my inbox #it's not their fault I have the past that I have #but I also don't find anything fun or cute about it #I find it truly distasteful #and there's no way for them to know that unless someone says like hey this name is distasteful and you could reconsider using it #and it's weird to try to figure out whether I should tell a complete stranger like #I'd prefer it if you never messaged me again because I never want to see your username again #I mean I guess I could and should just block them #and they won't know why #and it just kind of sucks #like maybe they legit don't care that people might hate the pun and would be fine with being blocked for it #but maybe they would care and hadn't thought about it

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stupidnaturals · 1 year

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#GAH hate not knowing how ppl feel about me #bc i used to be SUPER close friends w this person like they were ~25% of th reason i came back to my uni town after moving away last summer #and i keep texting them like ' hey we should meet up sometime! ' and they respond ' omg YES 100% i have SO much i need to catch you up on !#unfortunately i am out of town every single day. also so busy. '#and like yeah okay college very busy life very crazy. but how are you out of town every single day and also why have you NEVER reached out #and i saw them in person at target and they seemed genuinely pleased to see me! and also said something like #' we gotta hang out i have so much to tell you!! *ill* message *you* ' in a way that seemed to convey guilt at ^^ all that #but then how in the WORLD do you happen to be driving out of town immediately after the one event i know we'll both be going to???#and also casually gracing over the fact i also mentioned getting dinner beforehand??#also i dont know any reason they wouldnt like me unless its one of those ' im autistic and didnt notice you getting fed up w me '#or if theyre just actually that busy or too anxious to see people or anxious to reach out or fucking whatever #and like even when i saw them at target they told me a bunch of stuff that i dont tthink youd say to a random acquaintance #which if they do still like me makes sense! bc we were super duper close once! but doesnt make sense if they dislike me/want me to go away #like UGH just either ask me to hang out or say yes to a hang out or tell me to fuck off already!!!!#oh and ALSO the one time we DID have plans we didnt set an exact time but they texted me at like 11 and said ok we can hang out now until 2 #or they texted me at 11 and said ' i work at 2 but i dont think thats gonna be a problem also are you okay w hanging w my roomies too '#and i know their roomies so thats fine but i was like ??? WHAT shouldnt be an issue? r you gonna call off to hang out for more than 3 hrs?#or are you gonna friend break up w me so it wont take 3 hours #anyway i was like uhhh shit we didnt set a time so im actually at a tattoo place like an hour away w my roomie?#so we rescheduled for the next day when uh oh they hung out w someone who was exposed to covid so had to cancel again!#i cant think of a single reason they wouldnt like me except that they never did but we had an activity together so they were stuck w me #and they seemed genuinely happy to see me and also seem upset declining plans but like if thats true what the FUCK is happening????#anyway this was a mile long if you e read this far i love u if you have tips feel free to reply or dm me

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dredshirtroberts · 10 hours

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i'm remembering why i don't stay on dating apps for long and why i have a hard time making connections with folks in general. if i have to teach one more fucking person about polite conversation with people you do not know yet, i swear to GOD.

#hhhhh i hate making generalizations but it does tend to be the cis men who don't know how talking to people like people goes #if you ask to see someone's art and they deign to share it with you don't immediately offer concrit unless it's specifically asked for?#like yes i'm concerned Iconic Character might not be recognizable despite my use of references for once #but i did not actually ask for your help on this because i don't know what your credentials are #and you barely recognized it as it is which is telling me you might not be the biggest fan of Iconic Character as you might think!#Fuck youuuuuuuuuu #i said yes to the offer because if they are reasonable changes i haven't already considered Part Of The Art i might consider them to improv #because i'm already going to be working on it again today so it's not really going to add any more to my plate than i might already have #but i don't even remember how many similar instances of fucking BONKERS things to say to a stranger i've been like #hey you know people don't talk to each other like this right? you know that's not how conversation is right?#please for the love of god tell me you don't talk to people IRL like this #cause i might start forming ideas about why tf you're on this app in the first place #like i know neurodivergence can be a hurdle and everyone's a little poorly socialized since lockdowns started in 2020 #but... i KNOW these guys are not talking to their buddies like this #they think they can get away with it because i look like a woman #and if i gotta be the person who corrects them i will but boy howdy nothing gives me the ick faster than having to tell you that people #do not talk to other people like the way you're talking to me right now we do not know each other #do not presume you can just say Whatever at me and think i'm still gonna wanna try and get to know you to sleep with you like wtf #hhhh sorry. i'm like. probably not going to continue talking to this one but i did give him the opening to respond so i'll see what he has #to say and then move on with my life #it wouldn't probably be such a big deal if the vast majority of people i've attempted to talk to actually #yknow... talked to me.#but like it's fine. i'm fine. it's fine #like yes i would love to have someone i'm able to have sex with as well as friendship and general intimacy #i don't want to teach someone else how to be a person i barely understand it myself

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mrfoox · 1 year

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I think i accidently made Magnus think I was going to confess my undying love for him today 😂

#miranda talking shit #Me: hey uh... Can i say something ... Maybe bad/bothersome?#Him: yeah Me: um okay. So promise me you'll let me take it back if you are bothered by what i say?#Him: uh ..yeah Me: -goes into an insecure rant about how i think hes a friend to me #But i dont know if im allowed to say that bc that may be bothersome if he didn't think the same-#Magnus: i got worried you had something serious to confess for a moment #I made an joke about having a body hidden under my bed instead of the love confession one but wjkdjfkdld #As ive told my boy Fabian... Youre safe (from me)#I may be down with dating majority of my friends but if any of them have a partner its like the biggest block in my head #I cant see them as anything other than platonic if they have a partner. Or if i do i get over it quickly #Not like I'd ever tell anyone im into them anyway. Would ruin friendships and thats so much more valuable than an 1% chance they feel the #Same. Cant imagine anyone i know being into me anyway bc... They are all so out if my liege in so many ways #Id never accept or realize someone was into me romantically or similar unless they told me straight out. Otherwise i will #Find excuses for any type of behavior or 'signs'

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pretty-little-mind33 · 7 months

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James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities

When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.

Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.

"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late."

"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.

James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.

A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.

"Y/n," James whispers.

"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.

You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway.

Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.

Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.

He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed.

You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"

His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if —

Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been.

"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore.

You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.

A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms.

You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.

"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.

"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales.

"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor.

"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."

So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"

"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.

"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms.

McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"

William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."

"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.

"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."

You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.

* * *

A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.

However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.

"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him.

"You feeling okay?" James asks.

You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.

Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?

You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.

He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.

You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.

"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"

Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.

"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing.

Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"

"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"

Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.

He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him.

"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."

You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.

James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you.

He crushes you into a hug.

Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"

"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.

"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."

You pull away only to have him hold you closer.

"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.

"You smelt me? You're joking."

James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?"

You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"

James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?"

Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding.

James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."

As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically.

James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.

"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him.

James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.

You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.

His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer.

Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper.

James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me."

You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.

James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster."

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?"

James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose.

"Well, he can start now," you smile.

James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"

You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"

James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.

You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."

James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"

"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him.

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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!

Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.

He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.

(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)

He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.

He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.

He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.

Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.

Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.

Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.

He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.

So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.

He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.

What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?

He flirts with Death.

Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.

Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.

Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.

"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.

He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.

Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.

"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."

Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."

"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.

"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.

"Please don't call him that."

Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."

Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."

"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.

Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.

He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!

"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"

"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."

"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.

"I'm older than you"

There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."

"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.

While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.

"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"

"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"

Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.

"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.

The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.

"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"

Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.

It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?

Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.

Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.

Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.

Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.

Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #It's all fun and games kids!#spirit halloween #The Batkids are stressed #Danny pretending to be a Himbo #Like Brucie but only towards Batman #Danny looks young as hell #Bruce is ignoring him for now #Slow burn???#Maybe???

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fox-guardian · 9 months

Text

hey guys did you know that um. did you know. first of all did you know i'm losing my mind, secondly, do y'all remember in tma how when someone reads a written statement, they don't really Stop unless they're interrupted? and they read the whole thing easy cheesy, no issues with reading whatever words are there? like. jon literally could read french for a whole statement and was Fine. granted, that's Jon, but like nobody else struggled with pronunciations and whatnot (that i can recall)

presumably, this is an eye thing. either as employees of the institute, or because everyone there is just also eye-aligned in some degree (melanie had the ghost hunting show, the eye is fond of martin, etc)

and then there's tim in season 3 ep 86

[Sigh] Statement of… uh, Benjamin Hatendi… Hateendi? Regarding a… [papers rustling] a blanket. Dead friend. Monster. Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end. How he tried to hide. He couldn’t. Statement is from… 1983, March 2nd. And I guess… [long sigh] I guess I’m doing this one. Tim Stoker. Archival assistant… Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.

correct me if im wrong but i don't recall anyone struggling with pronunciations before this bit. but that's not even the biggest thing here, that's just a lil Taste, a lil Flavor.

note the phrasing there. "Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end." why would he say this when the written text on the statement says this:

Uh, right. Benjamin Hatendi’s account of… [rustling pages] oh for… a, a strange encounter. Er, statement date, March 2nd, 1983. Melanie King recording. Apparently.

"a strange encounter". that's it. nothing about an unavoidable death, just a "strange encounter". Tim Why Did You Say That.

why would our dear timothy bimothy, who is being pushed to the brink, who is becoming rapidly more depressed and losing hope, say this?

this isn't the only time he's said some weirdly grim shit tho (ep 104)

There was never really any hope for me, though, was there? This was how it was always going to go.

and then there's this bit from elias apparently having Looked into tim (also 104)

TIM All right, hit me with your X-ray eyes then, boss. What do you see? ELIAS Disruption. An unpredictable, angry man with nothing left but the desire to feel in some way revenged. TIM [Sarcastic] Ooh, terrifying! Surely only magic could have let you see so deep inside my very soul.

"nothing left" but the desire to feel revenged. and tim doesn't dispute this, because it's true.

when he first joined the institute he did so in order to look for answers about danny, but then he stopped seriously looking. and now that the circus is back, this is all the drive he has left. not looking for answers, just wanting revenge. closure. an end, if you will.

this is Literally It For Him. a couple lines later he suggests elias kill him, he's At The Breaking Point.

he is so tired, he's lost all hope, and he's saying all this grim shit about "unavoidable death" and "this is how it was always going to go" like hmmmm sounds familiar doesn't it. DOESN'T IT (<- is going insane)

(ep 11) [....] despite the rapid response of the paramedics and how much of his medical history I had immediately to hand, there was nothing I could do to save him. (ep 11) I have no responsibility to try and prevent whatever fate is coming for you. Based on my previous experience, such a thing is likely impossible anyway,[....] (ep 121) There. That was it. That was our fate; where we would always be.

hmmmm sounds a bit like oliver huh? everyone's favorite ex-accountant avatar of the end?? right??

but then there's this last bit i have from ep 86.

why did he stop reading the statement

Statement. “My parents never let me have a nightlight. I was always afraid, but they were ju–” Ugh, this is stupid.

why did he do that. again, correct me if im wrong but when else has someone just Stopped Reading like that without someone or something else interrupting them? why could tim just stop himself?

my theory is this: at this point, tim is completely gone from being aligned with the eye. he no longer seeks to know what happened to danny, he just wants closure. he doesn't wanna do any statement work, and he keeps mentioning these tidbits about hopelessness and the inevitability of terrible events, specifically death.

the eye isn't compelling him to read the statements like it does the others, because it doesn't have as strong a hold anymore. the grip is slipping from him. and by the time the unknowing rolls around, maybe it's lost him for good. maybe he finally fell into a different power he never meant to serve, and yet, he does.

and maybe. just maybe. because i'm so not in denial. but MAYBE. he did die in the unknowing. but maybe he got better.

basically end!tim truthers rise up, this is how end!tim kayaking with his bf oliver banks can still win, etc etc I'm Going Feral <3

#ramblings with major #the magnus archives #tma #tim stoker #oliver banks #timoliver #lil bit uwu #tim stoker tuesday #end!tim #cursing #tma angst #ig #i hope this is coherent and makes sense im losing my MIIIIND im losing my Mind

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starkwlkr · 4 months

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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance

part 1 part 3

Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK

“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.

“Hey, Lando!”

“Lando! How’s it going?”

“Norris, hey!”

Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.

“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”

“There’s a big chance I might be here.”

Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”

As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.

“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.

“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.

“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.

The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.

“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.

“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.

“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”

It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.

“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.

Charlie Hunnam, actor.

Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?

“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.

“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.

“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.

After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”

Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.

“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Oh.

“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.

“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.

“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.

Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”

“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”

Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.

“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.

Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.

“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.

“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”

“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.

“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.

“I love all my grid sons equally.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #f1 one shot #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #platonic #f1 x female reader

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apomaro-mellow · 10 months

Text

Steve gets the wrong number and starts texting an interesting guy. Steddie, modern au, no upside down

Steve had been feeling pretty good. He’d gone out, had a nice conversation with a girl at the bar and gotten her number. He didn’t feel sparks but she was nice and cute. They didn’t talk about anything too deep but when Steve had asked for her number she put it in and then left with her friends.

He tried not to be too desperate. But he wanted to let her know he was serious and that he would (eventually) be good boyfriend material. So a little before midnight, he shot a text to her to make sure she was alright.

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

He had debated on the emoji but figured it was harmless and innocent in the end. He put his phone down and got ready for bed, expecting her to text back after a couple of minutes. Unless she didn’t get home safely. Steve tried not to think about that.

After changing his clothes and brushing his teeth he checked his phone. He lit up when he saw that Misty had replied.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

Misty texted a little different from the way she talked. A bit more…well he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Misty seemed like a really straight-laced woman. She was in the process of getting her education degree.

Steve shot back another message, saying that he had a good time tonight and he really hoped to see her again. There it was. A clear intention. If she responded positively, he’d ask her out right then. But the reply didn’t come as quick as he wanted. When it got around 12:30, Steve finally called it a night. Misty had probably gone to sleep as well.

-------------------------------------------

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

Eddie stared at the text he just received. He racked his brain for whoever Steve must be and what he had done all day today, wondering if he met someone but their name just slipped his mind.

But nope. He had spent this lovely Saturday at home, lounging around in his apartment on his day off. He hadn’t gone out. And he hadn’t met anyone named Steve. The message came when he was in the middle of making his near-midnight dinner of mac and cheese. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly checking in on someone.

Eddie looked at his surroundings. Decent place, a bit cramped but big enough for just him and for anyone who needed to crash on his couch. He had popped out earlier to get some cigs and he had in fact made it back safely.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

And who said he didn’t have impulse control? He thought about it for at least two minutes before sending the message.

[11:55] I had a nice time tonight. Hope to see you again.

Eddie looked at the new text, his chewing slowing to a stop. This Steve guy had met someone, spent some time with them, and was now trying to set up another date. There were a few ways to go about this. For just a moment he considered what a rational person would do, just a moment though.

A rational person might’ve said right away ‘wrong number’ or ‘wires crossed’. But Eddie’s brain didn’t function on rationality. So even though Steve clearly meant to text someone else, Eddie thought of the best way to reply. It did take him a bit to send it, the macaroni was calling to him. But by 1, Eddie had sent something back.

(1:07) You saw me? (1:09) From my apartment? (1:10) Creepy

He went to bed, thinking he’d wake up to a very confused man and when morning came he wasn’t disappointed.

[8:13] What are you talking about? It’s Steve? From the bar?

Eddie checked his clock. It was ten in the morning. Who got up at eight on a Sunday? Eddie’s first thought was a church-goer. Those folks were early risers. But they didn’t frequent bars too much.

(10:29) Sorry man (10:30) I think you got the wrong number (10:30) I didn’t go to a bar last night.

Once he sent it, Eddie belatedly hoped the words weren’t too blunt. It couldn’t feel nice, getting a number error. But after a moment of thinking, he started coming around to the idea that maybe Steve wasn’t such a catch. People didn’t give wrong numbers after a good time. Maybe he actually was a creep.

[10:36] Oh. Well, I’m sorry to bother you.

Eddie rolled from his back onto his stomach. Curse his soft heart. He didn’t know anything about this man and somehow he felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to go gushing to a stranger. Who knows what kind of interactions Steve had with this mystery number? So instead, he went the typical Eddie route and tried to lighten the mood.

(10:38) Probably dodged a bullet (10:38) They could’ve been a serial killer (10:39) Or worse someone who jogs in the morning

He put that little dig there just to feel out Steve. If he wasn’t at church, maybe he was the kind to go and workout in the morning. In the middle of making his coffee, Eddie realized he was trying to learn about the dude and thought he might be courting danger. Then he heard a ‘ping!’ and any ideas of caution were thrown to the wind.

Leaning against the counter, the only sound was the percolating as he read what Steve had said.

[10:46] Okay confession. I did actually go for a jog this morning. Is that weird?

Eddie started to visualize this man and another alarm went off in his mind that he promptly shooed away.

(10:47) No not weird at all (10:47) It’s perfectly natural for an insane person (10:48) Didn’t you go drinking last night? (10:48) And then you went for a jog this morning? (10:49) You might just be more scary than a murderer (10:50) Scratch that (10:50) This seems like text book serial killer behavior (10:51) Bet this is how you scope out your targets

The coffee finished brewing and Eddie starting pouring it and it was only then he realized the wall he’d sent Steve accusing him of being a killer. It looked like texts from a crazy person. He looked crazy. His friends had complained more than once about him sending these streams of texts instead of keeping it all in one response. Steve was going to see that and leave him on read, or just block his number.

[10:57] Damn guess I better come up with a new tactic.

Eddie didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until he tried to drink and spilled hot coffee on himself. Alarms were ringing in his head again but he might as well be deaf.

Part 2

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #lemme know what yall think of the text format #im still figurin it out

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year

Note

Hello this is just to say that I am very interested in that post you mentioned maybe making about indirect communication!

So to define Direct and Indirect communication with a pair of examples real fast:

Direct communication: "Hey, can you do the dishes?" Indirect communication: "There's dishes in the sink." (Please wash them.)

Indirect communication tends to trip a lot of ND, but especially Autistic people up because the implied request in the parentheses... doesn't always come through. So you don't do the dishes, and the Indirect communicator gets frustrated because they thought they had made that request perfectly clearly.

Which, in their defense, they did! ...in their micro-cultural language.

See, the actual purpose of Indirect Communication is to provide some extra verbal personal space and non-aggression measures in micro-cultures where people's personal autonomy has been compromised but there is also a high degree of understood social context.

Hm. That's a weird sentence. Let's try some more examples.

Indirect communication is most common in places or situations where people's ability to stay in their own lane is compromised, but everyone also shares the same base knowledge of what's going on. One example is in large cities, where people are PHYSICALLY up in each other's personal space because they're physically crowded. So cities have etiquette like "Don't make eye contact on public transit unless you actually need to address someone", so that, if people can't stop violating your personal space, they can at least signal non-aggression and give you some privacy. People raised in large cities, or who have lived there for a while all learn these unspoken rules by trial and error, some of us with more errors and trials than others.

Thus, in physically compact situations, "There's dishes in the sink" means "There's dishes in the sink." (I trust that you are already familiar with the social rules that dictate that dishes need to be done, and assume the reason you haven't done them is because you haven't seen the sink yet. I won't insult your intelligence by elaborating on the Do The Dishes Rule, because I know you are smart <3)

Speaking of Privacy, the other place indirect communication is common is in situations where people have Limited Privacy and thus everyone knows what's going on with them, and they know what's going on with everyone else, whether they want to or not. Close-knit families and religious communities often have this shared no-privacy pool, but it can also happen with you and two roommates in a 100sq ft apartment, or on a research vessel in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Since y'all are up in each other's business, indirect communication is there to prevent hostility in close quarters.

This, in a low-privacy situation, "There's dishes in the sink." means "There's dishes in the sink." (I know you are a good and responsible roommate who is maybe a little forgetful, and I trust you to have enough context from living in the live feed of everyone's life to know that I need them done. I won't insult you by suggesting your motivation was malicious in any way, and i trust you to do them <3)

So, to an indirect communicator, that was a perfectly clear request to do the dishes because OF COURSE you'd know what they meant- literally everyone else they deal with is in on this shared knowledge of social rules and daily updates. And not elaborating on that request is an affectionate sign of trust in your competence.

Except, you know. You're not.

So, you try to explain to your indie friend that "There's dishes in the sink." only sounds like an observation, and your brain will not auto-fill in the request like theirs does, so if you want me to do the dishes, just ask with words, okay?

And your indie friend understands this! but then instead of going "Hey, can you do the dishes?" they instead don't say ANYTHING until they're really frustrated with the state of the kitchen, and communicate VERY directly at you, and with great anger.

What happened?

So remember how indirect communication exists to prevent hostility and violence? That's because the threat of hostility and violence is VERY, VERY REAL.

Like you, your indirect communication friend made some mistakes while learning The Unsaid Rules and How To Use The Shared Information Pool, and the social hammer came down on them HARD. Ostracization, ridicule, maybe even actual, psychical harm. So they grew very, very afraid of violating those secret rules, and doubly so with people they like, so your indirect communication friend is facing this HUGE EMOTIONAL BLOCK when it comes to directly communicating with you, because to someone who grew up with their boundaries compromised and the threat of hostility if they violate the communication rules, communicating directly with someone they love feels really, really, really mean and they don't want to hurt or lose you.

For real, "Hey, please do the dishes" sounds like "Hey, please do the dishes." (You fucking moron who doesn't give a shit about our home and probably hates me) to them, and they don't want to talk like that to you. It's like how we never like picking the mean dialogue option in video games.

So instead they... just don't say anything at all, rather than risk a potential confrontation, and then the dishes don't get done and it turns into a REAL confrontation.

What a headache.

So what are we gonna do?

Well, you can't control your friend's actions, emotional reactions or interpersonal skills, but you can manage yours, and you're gonna have to meet them halfway, and it's gonna feel like training a skittish cat that coming out from under the couch is safe. Several-pronged approach:

DO NOT PUNISH BEHAVIOR YOU WANT TO SEE. When your friend does manage to say "Hey, please do the dishes?" don't go "UUUUGH IN A MINUTE." even if you are in the middle of something else and their timing sucks, which is probably does. Stick to either neutral responses ("Cool, let me finish this paragraph and I'll get on that") to positive responses ("Oh, sure! Thanks for letting me know!")

REWARD THE BEHAVIOR YOU WANT TO SEE. -and then actually go do the dishes to demonstrate that this approach not only is safe, it's effective. Also, praise your friend when they do a good job communicating with you. "Hey, thanks for actually asking me to do the dishes, that was really helpful." or "You're doing a great job navigating and giving me directions, this is much less stressful than the GPS" or "Thanks for being honest about how I was annoying you and bringing it up before it became a huge issue." This will kind of feel like you're an actor on sesame street teaching big bird how to say please and thank you, but honestly? that was the age most of us learned our communication skills, and we return to that teaching method because BY GOD IT WORKS.

MODEL THE BEHAVIORS YOU WANT TO SEE. Humans learn by copying, so lead by example with the kind of communication that helps you, and explain why it helps. "Hey friend, a question so I can schedule some stuff- Do you have any plans this weekend I should know about, or am I clear to paint the bathroom?"

This is the one that sucks but YOU GOTTA MEET THEM HALFWAY AND LEARN ABOUT THE CONTEXT POOL. Can't make everyone learn, and Indirect communication has it's uses (especially in modern jobs and social media), so you gotta learn their style too. I literally have a discord server that's just me where I keep notes on the life events and conditions of my friends, coworkers, neighbors and loved ones because I know I won't remember that shit, but they will kind of expect me to, and it's been a lifesaver in both not blundering into social faux pas, and actually getting around my crap memory to know them better. You can also model hybrid communication and practice your indirect skills by using an indirect request opener, but then saying the rest of the implied context aloud: "Hey, there's dishes in the sink. I know you'll do that ASAP because you're cool, I just wanted to make sure you knew they were there and needed to be washed, thanks <3"

Accept that some people aren't gonna change for reasons that are beyond their control and probably have nothing to do with you, and decide what you're willing to invest in learning to deal with them. I still have to play 5D words chess with my mother-in-law, who was raised in a close-physical-space-AND-no-privacy culture and is an excruciatingly anxious indirect communicator as a result. I can't make her go to therapy for the anxiety, and until she does, her ability to communicate effectively probably won't improve. It's got nothing to do with me, even if I'm the person she's most frequently at odds with. As a result, I have extremely limited contact with her. I don't see her for more than a few hours at a time, when we have an activity to do together, and only a handful of times a year. More than that, and I get brainworms by proxy, so for my sanity, I've limited what I am willing to do with her. Maybe your indirect communicator is someone worth effectively learning a second language for, like a lover. Maybe they're someone you can cut out of your life entirely without issue, like a manger at a retail job you can quit. You'll have to decide.

Anyway, that's my raised-bilingual ADHD/Autism Direct/indirect communicator ramble, hope it helps.

#Long post #communication skills #Note: I'm not a therapist #I just live this experience #so take this with a handful of salt #but this has worked for me

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optimist-pine · 4 months

Text

Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #optimist pine #twd season 1

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bkgml · 1 year

Note

hiii do u think u could write something where maybe bakugo has been stressed lately. never yells at his so, treats them so good but one night after a stressful day, he’s dreaming and his hands burn up a little while he’s holding their waist, and burns them and he doesn’t wake or anything and they try to hide it from him, he finds out and is like super upset at himself and is distant etc hehe :,-) i rlly like ur writing so i’d be excited if u got to write something like this or anything in general

omg omg this is such a great idea!

youre cooking dinner when you hear the front door swing open.

“hi, honey!” you call to him, ready to switch off the burner so you can give him a welcome home kiss.

in return, all you get is a sigh as he sits on the couch.

“katsuki?” you call as you turn the corner from the kitchen to the living room.

you see him, head in his hands and still in his hero suit.

you walk towards him and thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his head toward your stomach.

normally he’d wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your stomach.

but today, he got news that he was being sent on a mission to canada for three months.

away from you.

away from his home.

away from everyone.

and if accepts it, it’s practically a guaranteed job offer to being the number one hero, his dream. though, it would put a large rift in your relationship as he wouldn’t be able to contact you in any way.

he stands from his spot on the couch.

“uh, i’m gonna shower. need to think for a minute.” he says, giving you a lifeless peck to your temple before he turns to leave.

you’d be upset, but he seems stressed. so instead you decide to throw pyjamas in the dryer for him so they’ll be warm once he’s out and start plating dinner.

you set the table before hearing the water shut off.

“ack!” you yelp, running to grab his pyjamas from the dryer.

“hey katsuki?” you call to him, knocking on the door.

you see his pretty face, ridden with stress as he opens the door.

“hm?” he asks lowly.

despite his worry, you still smile at his tired eyes and soft voice.

before you speak, you press a sweet kiss to his nose and watch his eyes flutter shut at the contact.

“brought you warm jammies.” you whisper, kissing his nose again.

he sighs against you before opening the door wider and bringing you into his arms.

“hi.” you whisper.

“mm.” he grunts, but you know he means ‘thank you, love you’.

you pull away after a minute.

“get dressed, dinners on the table.” you smile.

he nods and you head back into the kitchen.

the two of you eat dinner in silence while he thinks to himself.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask as the two of you wash the dishes.

he sets the final plate into the cupboard and clears his throat.

“just work.” he says.

“hmm. i’m sorry baby boy.” you coo, dragging your nails up his arms.

he groans, leaning back into you.

you hug him from behind, reaching your hand under his shirt and brushing against his abs soothingly.

“you gonna tell me specifically?” you ask softly.

he sighs and straightens up.

“not until i decide what to do.” he replies, turning in your arms.

you smile sadly and take him by the hand into your bedroom.

“sleep on it then?” you ask and he nods.

as the two of you get ready for bed in silence you wonder what has him so stressed out.

if he couldn’t save someone he would be more upset and he would’ve told you.

if there was a deadline coming up for his report of a scene he would’ve worked on it today.

if he was being sent on a mission he would be happy.

unless?

“come to bed.” katsuki’s call for you interrupts your thoughts and you shut the bathroom light off before climbing into bed with him.

you stroke his cheek affectionately.

“you sure i cant help with the decision?” you try one more time.

he grabs your palm off his cheek and presses a kiss to it.

“not this time, sweetness.” he replies.

you sigh but nod nonetheless before turning away from him.

he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

“i love you, katsuki. i know you’ll make a good decision.” you smile, turning your head to him.

he smiles sadly in return and presses a kiss to your lips, the first of the night.

it continues for minutes as he conveys every emotion within him.

his stress.

his love.

his anger.

his sorrow.

and you take it all, drinking it in and calming the storm brewing in his mind.

“i love you more.” he says.

you grin sheepishly and press a final peck to his lips.

“get some rest, kay?” you smile and lay your head on his arm.

“alright.” he says back, arms tightening around you.

as the two of you sleep, your mind is calm, full of white noise of love and laughter. while katsuki’s mind is plagued with darkness, storms returning with fury as he fights to make the right decision.

katsuki’s ferocious dreams bleed into yours as you feel white hot pain on your torso.

you open your already tear filled eyes and see katsuki’s hands burning into your flesh the same way his dreams burned yours.

you swallow a cry, a shout, you wrangle yourself out of his arms and throw yourself onto the other end of the bed.

you see your katsuki, eyes still closed, brain still unconscious, as he burns himself now.

“katsuki! katsuki wake up, baby. you’re burning yourself!” you shriek.

“katsuki!”

his eyes snap open and his quirk deactivates immediately.

“fuck! i’m sorry.” he apologizes for scaring you.

“did you hurt yourself? let me see!” you cry, lifting his shirt seeing the minor burns on his skin.

“shit… i really liked this shirt.” he attempts to joke but you huff and glare at him.

jumping out of bed you grab his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom.

“i need to clean your wounds.” you mumble.

he follows and sees your charred shirt.

“did i hurt you??” he asks, worry laced in his tone.

“i’m fine, you just got my shirt.” you lie, turning on the bathroom light.

the two of you step in the bathroom.

“sit on the edge of the tub. where’s the first aid kit?” you say looking around the room.

he sits silently while keeping his eyes locked on your torso.

you open the cupboard under the sink and find what you’re looking for.

you walk towards katsuki while opening the first aid kit and ruffling through it while mumbling to yourself.

when you’re in arms reach his hands grab the back of your thighs.

your mumbling ceases and the bathroom goes quiet.

setting the first aid kit on the toilet you thread your fingers through his hair similarly to when he first came home tonight.

“did i burn you?” he whispers, restating his question.

“no, katsuki. i told you, it’s just my shirt. let’s get you clean-“ you’re forced to cut yourself off as he lifts your shirt and sees the nauseating burns on your torso.

his breath hitches and you look down to see tears falling from his eyes.

“it’s not your fault.” you rush to tell him.

his eyes look to yours.

those glossy, heart shattering eyes looking to you for guidance, for an answer.

“it’s not your fault.” you repeat.

he looks back at your burns before his eyes return to yours.

“i burned you.” he whispers, voice cracking.

“you were unconscious.” you whisper back, leaning down to press your forehead to his.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.” you repeat as your arms wrap around his head and his face finds the junction between your neck and shoulder.

his sobs begin to fill the bathroom and you hold him and repeat to him.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.”

ten minutes later he’s calm enough.

“you going to tell me what has you this worked up, now?” you ask.

“they want me to go on a no-contact mission for three months. in canada.” he whispers, numb from his crying.

you kiss his dried tears and he allows his eyes to fall shut.

“if it means you get that number one spot like you’ve always dreamed then we can get through it, katsuki.” you say.

“i’m not going.” he replies, snapping out of his numbed stare.

you blink at him.

“what do you mean? this is your dream and i’m going to support you every step of the way.” you smile.

“i’m not going.” he repeats as he grabs your hand and pulls you through the house.

you follow, confused.

“katsuki??”

“i’m taking your ass to the hospital.” he says, tightening his grip on your hand.

“we’re getting these burns treated.” he grabs his keys and opens the front door.

“i’m going to work ten times as hard.” he pulls you out the door and to his car.

“i’m going to be the number one hero.” he opens your car door and helps you sit.

“and i’m going to do it all right here. with you.” he confirms, grinning determinedly at you.

a bright smile takes over your face as you grab his cheeks and kiss him sweetly.

“i love you.” you whisper.

“i love you more and i’m sorry i burned you, baby girl. never again, okay?” he says, pecking your cheeks repeatedly.

you nod in affirmation and he closes your car door.

while he walks to his side, he takes in the fresh air for the first time since he felt the crushing weight of the rift between you and his work life.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

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tojisun · 14 days

Note

how does fwb hockey player simon met reader btw?

at a bar, born from a dare

your friends pulled you out of your dorm, ignoring your murmured grunts about how you have midterms to prepare for, and demanded that you let loose for once. to relax. to take it easy and take a dick, or whatever would help you unwind. you flipped them off but slipped into clothes that you feel pretty in.

and you are. damn you are.

simon doesn’t even know how he caught sight of you, just that one moment he was listening to mactavish talking about a tradition from his old team, and the next he was unable to tear his eyes off you.

you were…oblivious. uninterested, really, if it wasn’t for two of your friends noticing his blatant stares and turning to you to point at him as subtly as they could. of course simon still caught it because he was watching, vague interest exploding.

you turned to him, then, quickly. simon expected the shyness, or the flustered look especially because of his profession, but you had only looked back at him with a confused furrow in your brows and your lips pinched in wonder.

oh, he thought with a sudden giddiness. well, isn’t that something?

“jesus, look at that smouldering look,” sandy hisses, jabbing you at your side.

“ow!” you cry out, glaring at her, but she’s not even looking at you, her posture frozen as she looks at somewhere in the crowd.

you turned to your other friends, confused, but it was only theo who was looking back at you. he smiles, amused, and tilts his head to the side as if beckoning you to look.

you do so with a confused tilt of your head, your eyes roving past the loud crowd before finally landing on someone who—you blink in surprise—is already watching you.

oh but he is beautiful. he is big, his bulk obvious even underneath that hoodie, and tan. his eyes are narrowed in quiet scrutiny, but his cheeks are round in his little smile.

you wonder why such an intense man is staring at you like that. like you are all parts wondrous and interesting and just utterly captivating.

“bet you can’t even get him to kiss you tonight,” james teases, before you are jostled by the way he slings his arm around you.

you glare up at him playfully. “you sure about that, kacey?”

james grins. “a hundred percent.”

you shake of his hold on you, teasing anger rippling into quiet annoyance at the patronizing way he lifts his arms up in surrender.

“watch me,” you snarl, rousing from your seat and pointedly ignoring the hoots from your friends.

you’re barely out of hearing range before you hear sandy’s excited, “i can’t believe that’s—”

you don’t get to catch her next words, stomping your way towards the beautiful stranger’s table with your fists balled by your sides as you fake your confidence. his own friends seemed to have picked up on your presence, and you note how their conversation trickled, evanesced, until they’re all watching you now.

god, you want to hurl.

there’s absolutely no reason for these gorgeous men to be friends, let alone to be gracing your stumbling walk of shame—because what else could it be, at this point—with their intense gazes.

you feel inspected. judged.

this is so wrong. i should just turn around. i should just—

but your thoughts screech to a halt because beautiful stranger doesn’t let your doubts fester. he doesn’t let them bloat. instead, he stands from his group, flicks his friend’s ear after hearing whatever it is he must have murmured, and meets you half-way.

“hey,” you say, your voice cracking embarrassingly.

“hey to you too,” he replies and oh wow, his voice descends on you like fucking molasses.

then he grins, cheeky. “was your walk here to invite me out or?”

“please,” you continue to croak out. “unless you want to, uh, to stay?”

“god, no,” he says and devours the remaining space between you two. he raises his arm up in question, and you nod, giving it to him, before feeling the way he tugs you close to his side, his warmth rubbing against your own.

you watch him watch you.

oh this is awkward…

“i’m simon riley,” he finally says after a while.

you say your name in return, giving him a customer service smile. “nice to meet ‘cha.”

simon riley nods slowly, his brows furrowing adorably like he cannot understand what you are—which, honestly, rude, but whatever.

“so, uh. come, let’s?” you chirp.

‘come, let’s’? you scream to yourself. what are you? the pope?

he laughs, endeared anyway. “come, let’s.”

you ignore the mirroring yips from simon’s friends’ table and your own as you two walk out.

#anon #hockey au #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ask #suns #CLEARLY I WENT BONKERS HAHDHEHE

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