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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Injured VII

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Alexia tries to get her act together

For as long as she will ever live, Alexia will never forget her mother's face that day at Alba's door.

She will never forget the genuine horror on her mother's face even as she took control of the situation. She will never forget that night when Alba slammed her against the wall after the final of the Copa de la Reina. She will never forget the way you hid behind Jenni's legs after your ballet lesson.

It's all she thinks about even as she sits in the rocking chair with a sleeping Jaume in her arms.

"Ale?" Olga says sleepily," It's three in the morning. Come back to bed."

Alexia doesn't want to. She doesn't want to let Jaume go but she doesn't want to look at him either.

He was so perfect. His birth had been quick and easy unlike yours. Alexia had felt an instant connection to him, unlike when she suffered a bought of post-partum depression with you. He was so soft and so perfect and yet...

Alexia couldn't believe that she has pushed you away in favour of him.

She had a beautiful son and daughter. Two children, not one.

She thought having a sibling would be the best thing for you. She wanted to build a family with Olga. She never considered that she hadn't actually included you in that family.

"Alexia," Olga says, a bit more awake now," Come on. He's due for a feed soon. I'd like some sleep before that."

Mechanically, Alexia places her son back in his crib, wiping away some of the drool on his face as she allows Olga to lead her back to bed.

A sense of numbness follows her now and it's clear to everyone.

Word has spread amongst the team now about what has happened. They know the bare minimum, only that Alba took Bambi and that Jenni has dropped everything to fly across the world for you.

No one knows why, officially. It's clear that Mapi and Ingrid have informed a few team members. Paredes, in particular, cannot look Alexia in the eye anymore and some of the younger players are wary seeing that.

Her life is falling apart. She had no idea you were the linchpin holding it all together.

Olga lays next to her, head pillowed on Alexia's chest.

"You're so tense," She says," Relax. Everything's going to be fine."

Alexia scoffs. "Is it?"

Her question hangs in the air for several minutes. Neither of them speak. Neither of them move.

"Yes," Olga says eventually," You need to stay positive, Alexia. If not for yourself then for your daughter-"

"Your daughter?" Alexia echoes Olga's words perfectly," My daughter? Is she not ours?"

The silence is telling and Olga rolls over and away.

"Is she? Jaume is ours. y/n is yours."

Alexia sits up in bed, reaching over to flick a lamp on. This wasn't a conversation she could have in the dark.

"We have a son together. We're going to get married. In what world is Bambi just mine?!"

"In every world!" Olga sits up too. "She has always been yours, Alexia! I am just the woman her Mami is marrying! Nothing more, nothing less!"

"How can you say that?! We're making a family together! Bambi is included in that family!"

"Of course she is but when have I ever taken that role in her life?! You took her to football! You take her to ballet!"

"She stays home with you all day!" Alexia bites back, standing now until they're both yelling at each other over the bed. "You make her lunch! You keep her occupied!"

"And you do her baths and her bedtime routine! You do her morning routine too! God, Alexia, I am essentially her glorified babysitter! You have never once let me take over those things!"

"You didn't ask?! Olga, if you wanted to do that stuff just ask me!"

"And be rejected? No! You've never given any indication that I was even allowed to try!"

"Because I thought you didn't want to! Bambi has always been mine! Forgive me for not knowing how much to put on your plate. I was trying to make this transition easy!"

"An easy transition?! Alexia, I was pregnant! I was already thrown in the deep end! Adding a self-sufficient kid wouldn't have been much worse!"

They're both screaming at each other now and Jaume clearly hears the noise because he cries from down the hall.

Alexia takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly as she counts to ten to calm herself.

Olga goes to get Jaume, moving out the door.

"If we're going to get Bambi back," Alexia calls after her," Then we have to both want her!"

The forms about your ballet class lay on the kitchen table when Alexia gets up the next day. Things were frosty last night when Olga came back to bed with Jaume but they seemed to be looking up when Olga said that they would have a mature conversation about the Bambi situation when Alexia got home.

Alexia picks it up as she eats her breakfast, skimming through it. It's for an extra class on Thursday nights (five until seven) on top of your usual ones. Apparently, it's for those little kids that have real potential. As in, the potential to be great.

Alexia had been one of those kids but for football instead of ballet. She had excelled. She was one of the greatest in the world now all because her father saw the potential in her and signed her up for a team.

She had tried to do the same with you. She took you to the under-fives Barcelona team but it hadn't turned out how she want it to. The other children had left you in the dust. Alexia had hoped that it would be a one time thing, that the first session was a fluke.

You were already so different to her and even back then, she knew that when Jaume arrived things would be different.

She'd tried to get you into football so you would have something to bond over together, at least until Jaume was big enough to play with you.

But it wasn't meant to be and her Mama had insisted in signing you up for something else.

Originally, Alexia had planned on it being another team sport, desperate to have something at least similar to football that she could cling to.

Instead, her Mama had reminded her of last Christmas when the family went to go see the Nutcracker and how enamoured you had been.

Ale's Mama had pushed and pushed for ballet and Alexia was glad that she had.

The forms sat signed on the kitchen table as Alexia washed up her bowl and dialled a number on her phone.

"Hola, Mama," She says," It's about Bambi..."

It's after training that Alexia goes to see her Mama and sister. They meet up at Eli's house and all crowd around the kitchen table.

Jenni is there too and when Alexia asks who is looking after you, she's told that Mapi and Ingrid have taken you for ice cream.

"I don't like this," Alba mutters from where she's leaning against the wall. She's the only one not sat, arms crossed over her chest. "How do we know that she's not going to take Bambi home and neglect her again, huh?"

It's the hardest words Alexia has ever had to say but she pushes them out of her mouth. "I don't want you to give me Bambi back, not now at least."

"What do you mean, Alexia?" Her Mama asks.

"I...I have a lot of making up to do," Alexia admits," I broke her trust and that is not an easy thing to get back. If I want Bambi to come home then she has to want it to. I don't want her to be unhappy again."

"What are you saying?"

"Let me visit her, please. Let me earn back her trust, please."

Everyone knows Eli is in charge here. She is the head of the family and everyone defers to her on big decisions like this. This is a family matter. This is about her granddaughter's happiness and her daughter's peace of mind.

"Bambi is very fragile right now," Eli says quietly but the house is so silent everyone can hear her clearly," This is a serious matter, Alexia and if it was anyone else's daughter, child services will have already been called."

Alexia looks down at the table, the same table she would be scolded at when she was young.

"Your father would be ashamed of you." Eli's words are hard and biting and it's exactly what Alexia wants, even if it causes a sharp pain in her chest. "This is not how we raised you. That little girl is so beloved by everyone and what you have done...I love you, Ale, but it is unacceptable."

"I know, Mama. Please, let me make this right."

"Bambi coming home is her choice. It is not a when...it is an if. If I decide that you are doing more harm than good then there will be other actions we can take."

She looks at Jenni, who up until this point has been silent and Alexia's eyes dart to her too.

"Mama, what are you talking about?"

"Eli," Jenni says," She is trying. We don't need to-"

"Jenni still has adoption papers," Alba says from her corner of the room," All they're missing is your signature. Mama is saying that if this cannot be resolved and Bambi doesn't want to come home..."

She lets the idea hang in the air. She doesn't need to say it out loud. They all know what she means.

"It won't get that far," Jenni says, looking at Alexia for the first time since all of this became real," Bambi loves you."

Alexia pushes through the lump in her throat and the tears pricking in her eyes. "If I cannot make this better then she will have the best chance with you."

Jenni looks away first. "She has ballet on Saturday until one. We can do a visit then."

"Thank you."

Olga is sitting with Jaume when Alexia gets home. It's an almost perfect image. All it's missing is you at Olga's feet, playing with your trains.

She can imagine it, your trainsets spread all over the floor and your ballet bag left abandoned on a chair. You will smile when you see her and Alexia will litter your face with kisses before doing the same to Olga and Jaume.

It will be perfect, Alexia promises herself.

"Hey, little man," She coos to her son, hefting him up into her arms and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Jaume giggles at the affection, lips smacking together as his hand whips out to grab at Alexia's nose curiously. He's been a little fussy recently and extremely sensitive to changes in light but he seems a little happier now.

"That's my nose," Alexia says. She wiggles it. "Is it really funny? Huh? Is my nose funny?"

"Jaume seems to think so." Olga rises from the sofa and pecks Alexia's lips. "How was your mother?"

"Helpful."

"And Alba?"

"She was...Alba."

"And Jenni?"

"How did you-?"

"I am not blind or deaf, Ale. Your team gossips. Jenni has comes back to Spain for y/n."

"Amor-"

"I'm not threatened," Olga laughs," You broke up for a reason but even I know that a meeting of y/n would involve her. How was it? What did they say?"

Alexia manages a smile. "I can see her on Saturday, after ballet. There's a place where you can paint pottery nearby. I think I'll take her there."

"That's nice," Olga says.

"I..." Alexia's been floating in a happy bubble ever since she started to drive home. She doesn't want to ruin it but she has to know. "Did you have a think about what we talked about?"

Olga sighs. "I love Jaume," She says after several beats of quiet," Because he is mine, yes, but mostly because he is yours as well. And I love you so much."

Alexia doesn't like where this is going. "And Bambi?"

"I'm sorry, Ale, but I do not love y/n but...I think I could learn to because she is so much like you and I love you. I do not know y/n like I know you and Jaume. I want to though. I want her home with us so I can love her like I love Jaume. I am sorry if it is not what you want to hear but it is my truth and I hope that is enough."

Tears fall down Alexia's cheeks.

"It's enough. It's enough, amor."

Alexia spends all week waiting for Saturday. There are matches to prepare for and media commitments to do but you're all she can think about.

She wonders if she should bring you a new train to mark the occasion but the model train store has finally shut down and Alexia cannot get one for you in time.

Next time though, she promises herself that she'll got you a new train for your collection. Her palms are sweaty and she's nervous when she spots you and Jenni walking down the street hand-in-hand.

You're still in your ballet clothes but you've got one of Jennie's jackets on and it's dragging on the ground behind you because it's too big. Your hair is still done up in a bun and a few wisps fall down to frame your face.

"Bambi," Alexia says, suddenly breathless when you look up at her.

"Hola, Mami," You reply, ducking a little bit behind Jenni as you greet her.

"Your Mami and you are going to paint some pottery," Jenni says," And I'll be right here to pick you up when you're done."

"You won't be late?"

"Of course I won't be! You're my most favourite little girl in the whole wide world! I'd never be late to pick you up!"

You smile and giggle when Jenni peppers kisses all over your face before gently moving you towards Alexia.

"Hola, Mami," You say again.

Alexia smiles and takes your hand. "Hola, Bambi."

You look very nervous and your hand is unusually warm in Alexia's, though she puts that down to you coming straight from ballet.

There's a big wall where you can choose what to make. Alexia gets a mug and, unsurprisingly, you want the train. It's at the very top of the shelf and you can't reach and you don't want Mami to get upset at you for asking when you could easily get something that's closer to your height.

But Alexia notices.

She's making sure to pay a lot of attention to you now. To the way that your ballet pumps are wearing a bit at the soles and the way you play with the sleeves of Jenni's jacket.

"Do you want the train, Bambi?" She asks," Do you want me to pick you up so you can grab it? Can I touch you?"

You nervously nod and Alexia pretends to not notice the way that you don't breath until you're safely back on the ground.

The little shop is quaint and fairly quiet and Alexia lets you choose the table at the very back.

Very gently, she telegraphs her every move to you as she rolls up the sleeves of Jenni's jacket so you don't get paint on it.

You're both quiet as you paint.

Your little tongue is stuck out in concentration as you dip your paintbrush into the paint and move it to cover your train.

"You moved up in ballet," Alexia says eventually," How was that?"

"Was good," Is the response from your tiny voice," It is harder now but still fun." You blink a few times as the overhead light buzzes and you scratch at you neck. It's been a little itchy since you last saw Mami and you don't like.

You haven't told anyone because you're scared they're going to get angry at you. You're a big girl now. Big girl don't complain about something as silly as itchy skin.

"I'm very proud of you," Alexia says," And I'm glad that you're enjoying ballet so much."

Your watery little smile back makes Alexia nearly cry herself. "Really, Mami?"

"Of course. I am so proud of my Bambi. You make me proud everyday."

"Are you sure, Mami?"

"Yes. I am very proud of you."

You sniffle a little and duck your head back down to continue painting. It hurts to move your head though. It's all stiff and tight so you have to hold it at an odd angle so you don't cry - though you're not sure if it's because of the pain or the fact that Mami is acting like this is the Before.

The Mami from the Before never got angry when you asked silly questions. The Mama from the Now got angry at you once when you asked a silly questions when Jaume was crying.

You hope that this Mami won't be mad because you ask a silly question.

"Mami," You ask softly, the memory plaguing you ever since your Jenni returned to you," Jenni says she wanted me when I was little. Did you want me?"

Whatever bubble Alexia was in before pops and it's like icy cold water has been dumped on her.

"What do you mean, Bambi?"

"You and Miss Olga wanted Jaume," You say," And my Jenni says she wanted me. Did you want me too?"

"Bambi..." Alexia doesn't want to think about those first few months of having you. The post-partum depression had hit hard and Alexia could do little but deal with yours and hers basic needs.

She had loved you and resented you all at the same time and the guilt had weighed on her for months.

"I always want you."

You shake your head before wincing and returning your head back to its awkward resting position. "But did you want me then? When I was little like Baby Jaume and when I was in your belly?"

Alexia moves from her chair to kneel in front of you. Her hand comes up to cradle you. Either her hands are big or your face is tiny because they cover your entire cheek.

"I love you," Alexia says," You're my Bambi and I've always loved you."

"But did you want me?"

"Bambi..."

"Mami...Mami, I..."

Alexia doesn't want to lie but she also doesn't want to tell you either. There were moments, that first week she found out she was pregnant when she didn't want you. She hadn't been overjoyed at the prospective of you. She hadn't wanted her career to be derailed by something as silly as a child.

She doesn't want to tell you the truth because she knows that it will be damaging to you. You're not old enough to be told things like this. You're not mature enough to be told this kind of information and not have it linger and fester within you for years.

But Alexia's always valued honesty. She doesn't like lying but she had lied to you all your life. She doesn't want to lie again now even if it's about something like this. Adults cannot fault other adults for telling their truth but you are neither an adult nor can you understand what this means for you.

"I want you now," Alexia says instead," I want you when I go to bed every night. I want you when I wake up every morning. I want you when I score a goal and when I win trophies. I want you, Bambi."

You sniffle and scratch more insistently at your skin, your wrists this time.

"I miss you sometimes, Mami," You say," But coming back to your house is scary."

"Thank you for being honest, Bambi. You don't have to come home if you don't want to." Alexia forces down tears. "When I next see you, we should go and see Abuela and we'll explain things to you, okay?"

"Okay, Mami."

"Is your train done?"

Your train actually is done so Mami gives it and her mug to the lady who works there to finish off and you both walk outside.

"They should be done in a few days," Mami tells you," And then when I next see you, I'll give you your new train."

"Okay, Mami." Her hand is in yours and you think that is enough for today, pulling your hand away as Jenni turns the corner and lets you run to her.

"Hey," She laughs, swinging you up into her arms," How did it go? Was it fun?"

You don't answer, burying your face into Jenni's neck.

"I..." Alexia says," I think next time when should go to my Mama's...Conversations are...difficult sometimes."

Jenni nods. "I see," She says," Next week, maybe?"

The words are complete autopilot. Alexia hates what she's said the moment they're out of her mouth but they're completely out of habit and she doesn't even think before she speaks.

"We'll see," She says," I'll have to check my schedule." She clamps her mouth shut the moment she says them. "I mean- No, I meant-"

You look resigned, like you are so used to this that it barely effects you but Jenni looks furious. She hefts you up higher in her arms.

"Say goodbye to your Mami, Bambi."

"Bye, Mami."

"Hey...Wait, no, Jenni. I didn't mean-"

"Bambi needs to have a nap," Jenni says," She takes one right after ballet. We changed her schedule for painting today. I should get her home."

Alexia wilts, slouching her shoulders and curling in on herself. "Adios, Bambi. I love you!"

Jenni is already walking around and you don't offer your own I love you in return.

Jenni's steady steps feel nice as she walks you back to Tia Alba's. Your itchiness increases and you scratch more harshly at your neck.

"Ma-Jenni?"

"Yes, Bambi?"

"Can we have cuddles tonight?"

"Of course we can. I love cuddles with my favourite little girl. Are we having them on the sofa after bathtime or in bed together?"

Before Ma-Jenni came home, you slept with your Tia Alba. Now you sleep in the same bed as Ma-Jenni. She's big and strong and she holds you just right. She doesn't let you go the whole night. You go to sleep in her arms and you wake up in her arms.

"Bed cuddles please."

"I love bed cuddles."

You grin. "I love bed cuddles too!"

You scratch at your neck again and Jenni gently pulls your hand away. She frowns, swiping at your skin with her thumb a few times.

"You've got a bit of a rash there, Bambi," She says," We'll have to keep an eye on that."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

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Hello! I was wondering what you think 141 & Alejandro, König & Rudy’s reactions be if their partner tried to get out of bed after a very spicy night & ended up falling/couldn’t walk?😳 Also yes I’m over 18😂

Of course!! My first ever head cannon! Apologies about Gaz and Rudy I don’t really read any fics on them, hence why they’d so short 🙈 I hope they’re ok! Hehe - I’ve tried to keep this Gender Neutral, if something needs changing tell me so I can fix it! ❤️

Price 🥃

He would be loving and attentive. Price would run you a warm bath, and as you soaked your aching body in the hot water he’d make you a strong cup of tea. 2 sugars.

You struggled walking to the bath, your knees wobbling, your thighs aching, small bruises littered you skin. He’d watch you as you walked to the bathroom, your hips swaying back and forth hypnotising him.

Price would then join you in the bath, he’d sit behind you, caressing your shoulders. Peppering your skin with light healing kisses. He’d check in on you, constantly. ‘You alright love?’ … ‘god, you took me so well’

He’d lean you back against his chest, kissing your forehead, whispering praises to you. He’d slowly work his way down to your aching core, massaging your inner thighs.

‘You feel so tense love. Let me help.’

Price would hand you your tea, letting you sip it slowly, savouring the taste as he caressed your chest. He’d plan the day for you, to take your mind off the ache, the pleasurable pain. Walk the dog in the country side, find a quiet tree he could kiss you against, before returning home where he could cook for you. Worship you.

Before starting all over again.

Ghost 💀

Riley would tease you, degrade you slightly, ‘couldn’t take my cock huh?’ … ‘pathetic.’ You knew he didn’t mean it, you got off of degradation from him.

He’d make small gestures to show he cares, breakfast in bed. A back massage. Firm slow kisses on your swollen lips from the night before. Caressing and squeezing your neck, something to distract you from the pleasurable pain you felt.

If you got out of bed your knees would be weak and wobbly, earning you your new pet name ‘Bambi.’ He’d throw you over his shoulder and slam you back on the bed. ‘Stay.’

He’d work you up, again. Making you want him despite the pain you felt from him fucking you the night before. You’d beg, plead and whimper for him take you again. You’d drag your nails along his bare muscular back, pleading for him to take you again.

He’d bruise your skin, holding himself back from fucking you again. He wanted you. Needed you. But he knew you needed to rest, heal, so he could have his way with you once more.

‘Careful love, sure you could take me again?’

Soap 🧼

Wee John, oh he would worry, worry he’d hurt you, but be low key proud at how well you took him. Deep, fast, hard.

‘You were so good for me hen.’ … ‘fuck you felt so good, so tight.’

He wouldn’t let you leave the bed, he’d keep you tucked into him as he cradled your face. Checking in on you constantly. Needing reassurance he didn’t hurt you too much, despite seeing you waddle to the toilet. Now that made him chuckle.

He’d whisper bad jokes to you to ease the burn you felt, he’d make you laugh to distract you. ‘Why did the beach blush? - because the sea-weed.’

He’d explore your body with his fingers, teasing you as he made his way to your aching centre. ‘Fuck off Johnny, it’s so sore.’ He’d secretly smirk to himself feeling somewhat proud, he did tell you he’d ruin you. And yet you didn’t believe him, till now.

Gaz 🇬🇧

Gaz would worship the ground you walked on for the entire day. All the chores? Done. All the cooking? He’s cooking what ever you want. Bath? Consider it run with essential oils, a glass of wine ready and your favourite candles.

‘You alright babe?’ He’d ask as you hiss when standing up. You’d kiss him sweetly, reassuring his lil head that you’re fine.

Losing your balance because your knees are so weak would cause him to giggle endlessly. ‘Fuck are you giggling at’ you’d snap throwing a pillow at him, grinning. ‘Never thought I’d see you so weak in the knees for me’ he winked.

Rudy ❤️

Rudy. What a sweetheart. He’d make you the finest hot chocolate, made from cocoa beans he brought from Mexico. The thickest whipped cream as well as mini marshmallows. Of course.

He’d put your favourite film on and you’d snuggle up on the sofa all day. ‘Eres tan hermosa’ he’d whisper to you as you buried your head in his chest. - you’re so beautiful

Stroking your head he’d check in on you ‘estas bien?’ - you ok?

As you’d lay there he’d be thinking about the positions he had you in the night before. Bent over the bed, at his mercy. He’d slowly become hard thinking about it. Your moans echoing in his memory.

Feeling unable to hold himself anymore he’d guide your lips to his as he devoured you in a moment of intense passion.

Alejandro 🌹

Alejandro would be on you again as soon as you opened your eyes. Pulling you into his embrace, intertwining your limbs together once more.

‘Te necesito mi amor’ he’d whisper into your neck ‘eres como una droga para mi.’ His sultry voice washed over you as his hands massage your skin.

He’d pepper you with kisses, with praise at how well you took him last night. How much he needed to feel you again. To feel you become a liquid beneath his as your moans injected themselves into his veins.

Wiggling out of his grasp you’d try and go to the toilet, but your knees were weak, muscles sore and tense. Losing your balance he’d be by your side within seconds. ‘Mi amor, let me help you.’

Pulling you in he’d place a lingering kiss on your lips before carrying you bridal style to wherever you needed to go.

König ✨

Definition of ‘lady in the streets a freak in the sheets.’ Wee man struggles with his anxiety in social situations but not when it’s just the two of you.

This man is obsessed with you, hence why you cannot walk this morning. You tried getting up to go to toilet but you knees gave out. You collapsed in a pile on the floor in a fit of laughter.

The mountain of a man peered over the side of the bed at you ‘mein Schatz’ he murmurs, smirking. Adoration in his eyes. He offers you his arm to help you up, before rolling you into him.

His huge arms keeping you trapped against his chest. You giggle against him, your ass bounces slightly against his cock. ‘Careful Liebling’ he growls into your ear.

He places a possessive kiss to your temple muttering words of love and praise in German to you.

He takes you to the shower, over his broad bulky shoulders and puts you gently into the tub. Leaving you to shower he quickly gets dressed and faces his demons to go to the local shop. On his return he presents you with a small bunch of flowers and your favourite hot drink.

You’re thrilled and surprised ‘König?! Are you ok? Did you manage?’ You chirp, a huge smile on your face. Pride swelling within your chest.

He found it difficult but he’d do anything for you, anything to see your face light up for him.

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tyonfs · 1 year

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the marriage and baby project (teaser)

PAIRING ▸ mark lee x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, fake dating (marriage?) au

SUMMARY ▸ mark lee has had the biggest crush on you for years, so, naturally, he’s over the moon when you’re both partnered for a group project. however, he underestimates just how close two people can get when they have to pretend they’re married for a month while taking care of a fake baby.

ESTIMATED WORD COUNT ▸ 8k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ the dunk shot series is not dead guys :’) sorry this series was sort of at a standstill for a bit but here’s the teaser for mark’s installment !! ♡ send me an ask or comment if you want to be on the tag list! (warnings will be added in the final fic)

THE ONLY REASON WHY MARK TOOK FAMILY AND CONSUMER SCIENCE WAS BECAUSE his friends told him it would be an easy A for a general education requirement he needed to fulfill. No one clued him in on having to become a married man and father.

“Hi, Mark,” you greeted with a smile, sliding into the seat next to him. “I guess I’m Y/N Lee for the next few weeks.”

He felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Here was a brief rundown: you were essentially a femme fatale, a drop-dead gorgeous it-girl; and Mark was a loser who was somewhat good at playing basketball. On top of that, Mark harbored the biggest crush on you since forever.

Forever dated back to high school. Although Mark never spoke to you much, he had always thought you were the most breathtaking individual he had ever seen. That was probably why he was malfunctioning right now. He had never gotten the opportunity to be around you like this, mostly because you were dating Vernon Chwe up until last year. All he could do was admire from afar helplessly, eyes lingering as you strode down hallways.

Chenle told him that there was a definite shelf life on relationships like yours and Vernon’s—relationships that were mostly physical—so he was confident you two wouldn’t last. And he was right. When you and Vernon broke up, Mark felt bad seeing your sad eyes, but an ugly part of him had been waiting for it to happen.

This situation, however, was like winning the lottery. Not only was he partnered up with you, but he had to play the role of your husband? Things like this never really happened to Mark, so he figured some misfortunate was coming his way soon.

“Hey, Y/N,” he managed to get out.

“Come up and get your babies,” the professor instructed. “These RealCare infant simulators use wireless programming to track and report on your behaviors, which is why I had you all sign those consent forms.” She held up one of the dolls for everyone to see. “I’m not gonna require you all to keep your dolls in a car seat, but I will be able to see records of misuse, clothing changes, temperature changes, whether you’ve rocked, fed, or burped your baby, or respond to its cries.”

Great. He had to walk around campus with a plastic baby. Mark’s friends were never going to let him live this down.

He wondered if the RealCare infant could play basketball.

He turned to face you again. “Do you want a boy or girl?”

“Mark Lee,” his professor chided, and he nearly jumped when saw her standing right beside his desk. “You don’t get to choose the gender of your child in real life, so I’ll be randomly assigning each couple a baby.”

“I don’t think we’ve considered the possibility of gene editing.”

“You can take that up with Congress.”

GENERAL TAG LIST ▸ @papiiimark @jaehy9ngs @chanluster @jjhmk @marksflute @superhajimark @jeongyoonohs @marklexleaf @dnylwoo @kpop-bambi @miyrisa @jjikyuu @venesiun @seventeeneration @chenosaurus16 @kylomeyon @infnteen @ohmarkly @weish5n @thejeongjaehyun @lovesjenmoong @infnteen @wownajaemin @haruharux23 @pewpewpwe00 @scxrlettkx @pckeia @keijikunn @sapiowoman28 @atiny-doodles @loki-in-hogwarts @baekhyuns-lipchain @repjaehyn @chan-s-laptop @jen0zen @michplusb @yutassecrettime @minkis-simp @dreamyyang @catscoffeeandkpop @ahgastayzen @ryu-naa

#mark smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct scenarios #mark scenarios #mark x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee #mark lee x reader #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct oneshots #nct dream oneshots #mark oneshots #mark imagines #nct hard hours

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lilianade-comics · 10 months

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Soooooo your Cheese Melt/Kindred Spirits AU 👀

Since Dani figures out what Vlad’s original plan for her was, (which is what I presume she found down in the lab in that first fake screenshot. Rip XD), how do they end up getting close again? Obviously Vlad saves her life, but like, after that lol. Is it just a matter of Vlad routinely proving that he actually cares over the course of a while that does it? Something more dramatic?? A bit of both???

Also feel free to drop the deets on those episode rewrites you’ve got knocking around your brain, especially Living Large, because I’d love to see how that episode plays out in this AU <3

Essentially, yeah! It's just Vlad continually being really extra as a parent and making decent choices in regards to Dani. (He's selfishly selfless: He values his own happiness the most, but it just so happens that he's thoroughly convinced that Dani's happiness is what makes HIM happy. Leave it to him to twist everything to his own benefit, right?)

Dani is giving him another chance because ultimately, he did save her life and is clearly trying to make up for what was a truly horrible plan (that he actually abandoned pretty much the day after she was born. He may have convinced himself that he was just delaying the plan, but in reality the moment he decided "not today" was the moment he unknowingly doomed himself lol. It just took him a while to actually ACKNOWLEDGE that his priorities changed. He had no intention of letting Danielle die by the time she discovered the truth). Ultimately Dani wants what every child wants: a good parent. And Vlad, well. He's Vlad. But when he wants something, he throws everything into getting it. So Dani no longer believes Vlad is good like she used to, but she does still believe that he loves her.

As for this AU's version of Livin' Large, I'll drop a few details below the cut!

-The Fentons move next door to Vlad and Dani. Dani seems happy about this, Vlad is less so.

-In the original episode, Danny refuses to investigate what the Guys In White want with his family's portal, so this prompts Sam and Tucker to ask Dani for help instead.

-They get caught, as in canon, but Dani pings as critically ectocontaminated and is swiftly loaded up to be shipped off elsewhere. This coincides directly with Danny flying by after his little "maybe i should do something, actually" moment and he immediately swoops in to save her. Unfortunately, the GIW nab him too.

-hilarious hijinks ensue as Danny and Dani try various methods to escape confinement. None of them work.

-Ultimately, it's a deeply annoyed Vlad in a white suit and sunglasses who rolls up to the facility to collect his daughter. ("....What the heck are you wearing?" Danny asks with extreme derision. "It's called a disguise, Daniel, and it's the reason I haven't also been locked in a cage. Unlike you, I might add." Vlad fires back smugly. "You should see his other ones," Dani pipes up, prompting one to wonder just how many times Vlad has impersonated government agents before.)

-Vlad unceremoniously tazes an agent who asked for his ID on the way out.

-Dani turns her big Bambi eyes on Vlad to see if he'll help them save the Ghost Zone from certain destruction. Danny is like "No, that's okay, I think we're good." Vlad gives him a look and flippantly asks if they REALLY think the GIW are smart enough to destroy the Ghost Zone. Dani's like "they're idiots with a giant missile, they're gonna destroy SOMETHING, Dad."

-does this turn into reluctant halfa trio team up? yeah maybe, sue me.

#danny phantom #cheese melt #asks #vlad masters #dani phantom #danielle phantom

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odditycircus-2002 · 8 months

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The Masked Medicine Woman (Revised)

A/N: Told you, I would make some adjustments for this. Let me know if you prefer this over the last one

"You were meant to be mine. I am all that you need..."

-Meant To be Yours (Ryan McCartan)

Hailing from Outworld's hinterlands, Y/N is known as one of the best medicine women, if not the best. Having first been spotted by Sindel for helping to cure a plague in her teenage years, Y/N was invited by the Queen herself to study at her palace. Eventually, she became the royal Medicine woman. She is not only a good friend of Sindel but also aided the Queen with the birth of healthy twins. Y/N is particularly close with the eldest twin, Mileena.

Eventually, Y/N would cross paths with an up-and-coming sorcerer named Shang Tsung, whom she partnered with to further the goal of finding a cure for Tarkat. Their partnership would come to an end after a freak accident; an accident that is said to have left Y/N's face so scarred she started to wear a mask to cover the marks it left. Baraka, leader of the Tarkatan colony, is the only one who knows what's behind the mask. Now, she currently resides in the Tarkatan camp to continue her research while treating all the afflicted within the colony to the best of her abilities. She still blames Shang Tsung for causing her accident.

Y/N: You cursed me to be this monssster!

Shang Tsung: "My dear, are you really so insistent on blaming me for what was essentially an accident?

Taglist: @slowlyfriedkingdom, @blackbunnymayw, @waryvoid, @redviper321, @lesbian-bambi, @evelud, @solareclipse166, @otako5811, @painimpact, @small-tophat-man, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @the-strange-unknown, @gname4, @aliceangel200981, @yaboicayde, @dumbhxeredrose, @tmoney-gay, @snowwhiteabyss, @geeky-trash01, @0000-lover-girl, @helixatomiclaws1799, @livia25leelover, @sarapaprikas-blog, @he-burnt-my-shake, @possibly-gleeful, @pikachupepito2, @miasubzero14, @keenduckzombie, @blackrose-2019, @nobod987, @antichristsbaby, @ariel2897, @iivenussleeping, @bloody546, @amara555555, @ya-sillydilly, @calviyv, @momoko-world, @ihatebitterthings, @sillypissyfroggy, @kpopobsessedellie-blog, @wickedspeak, @helloweebsofgenshin, @technonecromancerderaxus, @undertale-anomaly20, @khaotic-kris, @lonelycupcakelol, @duchessdaisybat, @generousrunawaystranger, @hufflepuff-ef, @ciphershadow, @night-stitch, @eclipsybunnyblogs, @ashleyinky, @corpse-nymph, @a-tiny-frog-with-a-hat, @porfiriea, @greciacat, @bobawitch13

#mortal kombat #mk x reader #mortal kombat x reader #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #Oddball writes #mk kitana #mk mileena #Mortal kombat 1 #mk sindel #mk 1

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neuralnetsprettypatterns · 25 days

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Hi,

I looked through your post history after reading through a few about how to protect yourself with hypnokink. I've only just dipped my toes into it with a "beginner trance" last night over discord text. It was surprisingly effective considering I thought myself hard to hypnotize.

I could really use your help letting me know if these commands are lines are part of the kink and hypnosis, or if they're red flags. If they're red flags I don't know that I have enough interests in doing deeper research. Ultimately I'm looking to know if this is a safe person I can explore this potential kink with, or if they will only be harmful for me.

[my responses and some small blocks in between have been omitted]

Here are the phrases:

Every time I tell you the words SLEEP NOW in all caps, you can easily and effortlessly fall back down into this deep state of relaxation Is that understood?And every time I give you a command within [these brackets] you will feel compelled to obey it Knowing that obeying me gives you the deepest feeling of pleasure in the entire world Obeying me gives you a sense of belonging Obeying me makes you happy Obeying me makes you horny And M ~ I want you to remember this. Your new mantra Pleasure is obedience, and obedience is pleasure [Say those exact words, now] Wonderful, M —- I’ll tell you exactly what that means Every time you obey me, you feel pleasur And every time you feel pleasure, you become more and more obedient It’s an endless cycle And now I have you caught in it.

Thank you if not for an answer than at least for the countless posts of education you've already given me.

Thank you! I appreciate receiving this as an ask, and I appreciate the obvious care that went into crafting the question.

I’ll answer at length.

Hot take party

There’s a specific Neural Nets and Pretty Patterns take on hypnosis.

Hypnosis is art. It’s poetry. Sometimes it’s recited, but good recitation changes with each iteration. We make it our own.

That’s how oral poetry worked. That’s also how inductions work. People told stories and those stories had effects on the audience. It’s a slutty Iliad.

For the most part, I write, produce, and voice special poetry about how much I enjoy railing sluts. I’m passionate about it because I really enjoy sluts.

What hypno ain’t, though, is science.

It’s not a technology. Erotic brainwashing and sexual trance doesn’t have a predictable formula. It’s not a pill.

This answer disappoints grifters. The market for love potions is a lot bigger than the market for love poems.

How’s this rant relate to the question?

In a few ways. I’ll reword your ask as questions I can answer better.

Someone sent you a script, essentially.

“Is this a good script?”

I don’t think it’s great.

No specific connection to you, no connection to kink, just a recitation. It doesn’t do it for me. Once we accept that this is art not science though, it’s fine that we might have different tastes!

I also think it’s scientistic. Those brackets read like a programming fantasy. I have those, but best to admit it. Good kink runs on honesty.

I do some special notation on this blog. You can see it. In large part, I do that to evoke an emotion and because it looks fucking cool. I’m not command line hacking your brain. If I could do that, I’d be running governments, not a blog and a modest Patreon.

“Is this a dangerous hypnotic script?”

Not really.

I think it’s a bit dull. It’s unrealistic. I don’t think you’re going to suddenly [obey text in brackets] and OBEY ALL CAPS.

That might be an interpersonal red flag. Someone who sends a canned script isn’t a psychic supervillain. They might be insensitive and uncaring, though.

Most “hypno dangers” are really interpersonal dangers. You aren’t looking for evil wizards. The dude who sends 15 spirals and yells something about Bambi Sleep isn’t some sly mastermind with a knowing smile. He’s just an annoying looser. Is he going to yell DROP 4 COCK and make you suck a dick in the Kroger’s? No, that’s not real. Might he waste a lot of your time and lie a lot? Yeah.

So the red flag, really, is that people who lie about hypnosis to sound cool and impressive probably lie in relationships and that’s a bad sign. Does your person there fit the bill? Idk, hard to say without more context. You have the answer but I at least have a better question.

Is this person full of shit?

If so, run! If not, negotiate limits and boundaries with good and honest communication.

I’m here for any follow up questions!

#hypnosis #hypno k1nk #hypno nsft #bd/sm kink #kink safety #nnpp #neural nets and pretty patterns #neuralnetsandprettypatterns #hypnotism

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seas-storyarchive · 2 months

Text

Falling At Sleep - what if

The first time anyone noticed Alastor's odd.. habit, shall we say, was when he was found by Husker. At the bar, sleeping atop the counter, on his stomach, fucking deer hooves and tail on display as he snored and clutched one of the newly purchased cleaning rag.

"Fucking hell, boss.. what the shit, is this?" It was way too fucking early, at.. 3am- what the fuck!

Husker dragged his Bambi boss all the way back to bed. Dropping him on his bed unceremoniously, bitch slept the whole fucking time. Good.

The next ones to find this out was Fat Nuggets, and Angel.

Angel had come back from a rough day with Val at the studio, smiling at he approached his room. He walked in to see Nuggets asleep in his bed, like a good boy.

"Hey Nugs. How's mama's little man?" Angel asked Nuggets before he walked into his bathroom to get dressed for bed. He rushed out when he heard Fat Nuggets oink in distress, expecting the worst and ready to throw down-

What he wasn't ready for, was seeing a beyond passed the fuck out Smiles sprawled out on the floor of his room on his back. In a two piece red pajamas piece with white accents - hooves on display.

"Da fuq?" Angel rubbed his eyes, hoping he was seeing thindgs- nope. Smiles was still there. And now Nuggets was moving to sniff and nudge the man.

"Nugs!" Angel whispered sharply, trying to scare the pig away from the cannibal. But nope. The man just let out a loud snort as he was touched, before he settled down.

Phew!

"Well, I'm too tired to move him, so.." Angel carefully put a pillow under Alastor's head and tossed a blanket over him, just in tome for Nuggets to snuggle up to Alastor.

"G'night Nuggets. Night Smiles." Angel said, snapping a pic - Smiles came out static-like but it worked - of the two before falling asleep himself.

Niffty was freaked out, at first, when she found her boss asleep in her Roach Theater space, on his side, after hours. How rude!

"Hey! Hey, Alastor!" Niffty shook her boss a few times on his shoulder, the man in such a deep sleep he was essentially dead.

He didn't even stir when Niffty put a dead roach in his ear. Huh..

"Well, if you're going to sleep here.. I am too!" Niffty pulled a blanket over Alastor and cuddled up to him under the blanket, before they slept in the quiet together.

Vaggie almost stabbed Alastor in the dark when there was a sudden thump in hers and Charlie's room.

Luckily, Charlie turned on the light. Well, lucky for Alastor..

"How the fuck-"

"Shh, Vaggie." Charlie pointed to Keekee and Razzle snuggled close to Alastor on the floor.

The fallen angel gestured to the demon asleep on the floor with the lamb and cat. "Charlie, seriously! Think about it! How the Hell is he in here!? What the fuck is he-" Vaggie was cut off by a loud snort before Alastor was quiet again. "What the fuck?! Like, seriously!?"

Charlie shrugged. "Maybe we shouldn't wake him? Just, take him back to his room?"

"I am NOT touching him!" Vaggie whisper-shouted, before kicking the demon in the back of the head.

That woke him, and also made Keekee abandon her post on Alastor's side to jump to the bed as Razzle made a distressed noise.

"Hmm?" Alastor sat up, his eyes barely open, looking around the room, before looking to the two women and creatures. "Pard'n the intrusion ladies.. I'll jus' let you sleep.."

The demon dragged himself out of the room, well, his shadow did. Keekee and Razzle looked at Vaggie, annoyed. Fat Nuggets was right! Alastor was warm and they got cheated out of snuggles!

Vaggie looked from the door, pissed off, to the two. "What?"

Nothing was indicated, as the two went to their beds to sleep.

"Vaggie, I don't think you should have.."

Vaggie groaned. "Can we just go to bed, please?"

"Okay." Charlie yawned, shutting off the light, too tired to argue.

When Alastor dropped into Lucifer's room, into a pile of ducks, the small king jumped in fear. He'd been making ducks for hours, and then.. this..

"Uh, can I help you?" He asked, annoyed.

All he got was a snore in return.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Lucifer grabbed the demon by the collar of his sleeping shirt, who's ears twitched. "What's your problem!" He shook the man, before looking at his shadow that was moving about.

"What?" Lucifer asked, annoyed.

"Massster can't sssleep.."

Come again? "He seems fine to me."

"No, you misssunderssstand. Ssssince Massster got ssstabbed by the angel, Massster has been having cold sssweatss and is alwaysss tired.. I've been trying to find help for hisss injury, at night.. he isss dying. Too ssstubborn to even ask Misss Rossie for help.."

"Is that why I've been sensing his energy getting weaker? Wait- Adam stabbed this fucker?" Lucifer looked from the shadow to Alastor, as he moved a hand back to gesture to him. "Where?"

"From hiss right ssshoulder down hisss andomen." The shadow said. "He'sss too worried to asssk for help. Won't want to be ssseen assss weak. But hissss deal, it will keep him from dying out right. His leassssh, it issss heavy."

"Leash? Deal?" Lucifer groaned. "You have to be fucking kidding me.." he laid Alastor down on the floor, and removed his shirt - stitch marks for the wound, bloody and pus covered and.. hang on, did this bitch try to burn it closed with a hot metal item? "Oh you dumbfuck of a buck."

All the color was almost drained from the man, so close to death. And Lucifer caught a scent he never thought he would smell again-

"Okay." He grabbed at the chain, gripping it tight. "Time for this to go." While using his angelic powers, he pulled the chain.It broke like it was made of cheap paper rings.

"Okay," Lucifer tried to remember to focus on what healing powers felt like as he reached his hands to the wound. "Let's try this. And I hope for his sake, it works."

There was a strong yellow light, and soon the wound was mostly healed and gone, save for a newly formed long scar.

"There. Phew.." Lucifer wiped his brow, before looking to the shadow. "Think you can bring him back to his room?"

The shadow nodded. "Thank you, sssire. He will not be happy when I inform him of thisss.. good night."

Lucifer nodded, watching as the shadow took Alastor out of the room. "Phew." He looked at the pile of ducks, seeing none of them were covered in fluid. "Good."

After he got dressed for bed, Lucifer looked up at the ceiling in his room. "You stupid fucking kid, making a deal with Eve. Well, hope you're happy now, cause you owe me, bitch."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #5 + 1 things #kind of??#idk #found family #a bit of a plot at the end #its my fic and i do what i want #alastor gets cuddles #sleepy little deer #lol #post ep 8 fic

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sunlightmurdock · 5 months

Note

😤 with bbb Bradley please?

I feel like B3 Rooster does his absolute best at every avenue not to get jealous when he’s with bambi — because she’s been with a possessive man before, and it scared the living daylights out of her. As much as he can, he bites his tongue and doesn’t intervene.

Until he’s walking her home one night after they were at a party together and she says, “Did it not bother you when that guy wouldn’t leave me alone earlier?”

“It did. But I didn’t want to overstep.” Bradley would shrug, giving her hand a small squeeze and looking up at the sky instead of her.

“You have my permission to scare off creeps, you know.”

And, after a little more discussion, Bradley finally relaxes. It doesn’t feel like he’s holding his breath when they’re out in public anymore. He likes the fact that her confidence is growing and that she can talk to people more and more — but god, he adores the fact that when he grabs her by her hips and pulls her backwards against his chest, protectively draping an arm across her shoulders, she just smiles and leans into him.

Essentially — B3 Rooster is naturally a protective kind of guy, and he likes being able to overstep his jealousy by just letting everyone know exactly who she’s with. And besides, she can’t pretend she doesn’t like it when the creeps catch sight of her big, bad boyfriend never too far from her.

Send me an emoji prompt!

#b3 bradley #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw

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racefortheironthrone · 11 months

Note

Why is Walt Disney refusing to recognize the animators union in 1941 a mistake on Disney's part?

Let's start with the moral angle: Walt was denying people their human rights to form a union free from intimidation by management, and he was denying them basic economic fairness and security at work due to his weird control freak tendencies. Moreover, it was pretty evil of him to retaliate against strike leaders by denouncing them as Communists in front of HUAC in 1947 in order to get them blacklisted.

Beyond that, Walt lost on both a financial and artistic level. After three months of picketing, Disney was forced to sign a contract with the Screen Cartoonist's Guild and give them pretty much everything they had struck for when it came to wages. On an artistic level, however, Walt Disney Productions lost almost half its workforce due to the strike - partly because animators had to pay the bills, but also because a lot of animators were so pissed off by Walt's conduct that they refused to come back even after winning the right to be rehired. (Those workers would go to work for Disney's competitors or found their own animations studios. Not good for Disney the company, but ultimately not necessarily a bad thing for the medium or the industry.)

This enormous loss of talent crippled the company at a critical moment - Pinocchio and Fantasia had not done well at the box office, and while Dumbo (a scab movie, btw) made a profit, Bambi failed to turn a profit. Disney stopped making full-length features for the next six years and had to survive on WWII propaganda contracts, some godawful shorts, and re-releases of DIsney's previous hits (essentially the "Disney" Vault started as a desperate attempt to maintain financial viability). There was a real possibility in that period that Disney Productions would go out of business.

While there would eventually be a recovery in the 1950s with Cinderella, Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, and Lady and the Tramp, those lost years in the 40s are something of a cultural tragedy - we'll never know what Disney Productions could have done for the medium if they'd kept the workers they lost and been able to keep making full-length animated movies.

So to sum up: all because he was an Andrew Ryanesque control freak, Walt nearly destroyed his company when he could have just recognized the union from the jump, saved himself an enormous amount of financial pain, and kept making the movies he loved.

#history #labor history #u.s history #cultural history #disney #animation

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forlorn-crows · 5 months

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Just stopping by to say this (also sorry in advance, english is not my first language)

some of these headcanon critiques are a bit.. hurtful in a way - especially coming from a system POV who has system members of the band members that while are different, are sort of how people normally portray i guess you could say. we have a dewdrop that's very i guess you could say fem and subby, ect ect. And reading some of these hurt a lot. and sort of felt like .. a slap to the face almost. Our Dewdrop headmate is now sort of afraid to even make a post about their own headcanons of themselves because they don't want to be bashed for it or bullied for it. These critiques come across as straight up bashing vs critiques.

-🌙☀️

please note that these second two screenshots were part of longer submissions, but these parts i still wanted to include. i hope they dont seem out of context.

to our system friend here, hi. im sorry that what i and/or others have said hurt you. it was not my intent to come across as bashing, and i know i have a tendency to be 'loud' about certain things, etc. absolutely not an excuse, and im sorry if others felt that they were unwelcome to speak up. so, i appreciate those who did stop by to say so.

i wont backpedal on my opinions, though. i tried multiple times to make clear that almost everything about these ghouls is headcanon, and you are absolutely free to say 'fuck off crow, i like dew being x y z'.

if your dew is more feminine and submissive, then that is a-okay. but, the way the ghouls sometimes are portrayed can be very two dimensional. many of us, essentially, would like to see a bit more variety, even if your characters still fit this common fanon characterization.

like our second anon here has said, these common characterizations are understandable, due to how they act on stage. hell, rain was called 'bambi' for a little bit because he kept tripping over his own damn legs. their stage presence still plays a part in their personalities, absolutely.

to what extent, of course, varies from person to person. ive seen many a headcanon say that 'dew only acts that way onstage, hes actually really shy/reserved in person' just as an example. and all of these things that we think about the offstage characters is technically correct because we dont have a basis for it otherwise.

the original intent of the asks last night was simply to discuss headcanons/characterizations people liked the least. and im sorry if it resulted in something that felt placating, invalidating, or just mean. again, i tried to state in multiple different ways that those things were what i headcanon. not that people are 'wrong' for thinking x y z about a character. i dont even agree about everything that my friends think about these ghouls. and thats fine. i wouldnt want everyone to just think like me either bc then its just a boring echo chamber. many of the things i spoke about, if i come across them, i just skip and move on with my day. everyone has different ideas, and sometimes its just not for me. just like my ideas arent for everyone either.

you have full autonomy to post and think and create anything you want about ghost. what i dont want is people thinking im some kind of authority, or that people arent welcome to say their thoughts. i wanted (and still want) these things to be a discussion, an open forum for people to talk about their headcanons that may differ from the norm.

with all this being said, i want everyone to have fun here, and i dont want anyone to feel pushed out of a fandom because one or two loud people 'dont like' what they believe about silly nameless ghouls in a rock band.

i want people to feel like they can write characters differently than others, or if you enjoy those common characterizations, that you recognize when things might slip across those lines we spoke about yesterday. that everyone is critical when warranted, not just because someone said they dont agree with you. you feel me? and if you dislike something, and want to see something specific, you have the ability to create those things if you wish! thats the beauty of it all.

i know these are not fun conversations to have, and that some people might feel defensive about specific topics. but we all need to understand there are nuances to situations, to opinions, to people. okay?

#be kind to each other #ask #anon #im finished with the headcanon asks for now y'all okay?#and if y'all want to keep going keep it positive and constructive pls

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wellthebardsdead · 1 year

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I was going through my belongings and I found a paper that was originally graded as a D- that was crossed out and replaced with an A.

My English teacher hated me because I wrote an entire essay on how Shakespeare was essentially the average gen z individual just in ye olde English. His writings were filled with fart jokes, shade towards not only historical figures and locations through puns, and references and methods often deemed crass or outlandish by older thespians or members of society. “A rose by any other name is just as sweet” was literally him poking fun at how the rose theatre reeked of shit!

He refused to believe any of it even though I’d sighted my sources because he had a romanticised version of the bard as this highly intellectual fellow who was pure of mind as he was of heart. So I went to the drama teacher who’d been studying theatre for nearly 20 years and she loved my paper and was outraged by the other teacher so much she went to his office and the whole school could hear this nearly 60 year old woman screaming at this 29 year old about how much of a fucking idiot he was.

I came into class the next day to find my paper on the desk with an A and he refused to make eye contact with me for the rest of the year before he was relocated the next year.

So yeah, just because someone in an authority position makes you feel like an idiot, it doesn’t mean they’re right.

~Bambi

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

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"A whole new rodeo" - Rhett Abbott x Reader

[TW: creepy drunk guy, harassment, explicit language, physical violence (like one punch)]

<"Creepy guy at the bar" is a Cheesecake Trope™️: we all know it, there’s no nuance to it and yet it’s always just as lovely>

[1k followers celebration!]

SUMMARY: Rhett just wants to get a drink, not listen to some drunk guy be creepy to a girl. Preston Mabel might have a pretty bad morning, while Rhett Abbott is convinced he scored out of his league.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

One of the virtues of The Handsome Gambler was its constant state - always the same clientele, the same cheap beer, the same smell of hay and gasoline. It seemed as if menaces of the real world couldn't put their talons on whoever was spending their night at the bar, for a moment letting people of Amelia County sigh with relief and pretend their hardships were more akin to philosophical questions not mandatory to entertain rather than essential parts of their demanding lives.

It was just another weeknight, the regulars greeted each other with a slight nod or a tip of their hats before sitting down to their beers. One of Kenny Rogers's hits was playing through the speakers.

Rhett was sitting by the bar and had been absentmindedly drinking his beer, thinking of many different troubles that bit at his heels, until a couple didn't become his bar neighbours. Although to clarify, the pair itself wasn't a problem, Rhett had little care for lovebirds, it's rather only the drunk half of it that got on his nerves. He would've recognized that tacky hat with plastic seashells anywhere and at any time. It belonged to none other than Preston Mabel - a man approaching his thirties that hadn't been told 'no' enough times throughout his life. Through his childhood antics, Preston gained the prestige of the guy who throws sand at others and spits in other kids' porridge. Rumour had it, he never quite outgrew one of those habits...

He wouldn't have cared about Preston - worst case scenario, Rhett could have just found another seat and continued his lonely drinking. It was Mabel's companion, however, who changed Abbott's mind. Sitting on Preston's left side, he could get a look at her face and the unmistakeable discomfort she was experiencing:

Giving the man an empty chuckle, you casually brushed his hand away from your shoulder once again. No matter how nice and charming he had seemed, your regret was growing more potent ever since Preston's fourth beer. Although his behaviour was without a doubt criminal you were quite torn about what you should do: part of you was ready to bail at any moment, while the other was gullible enough to downplay your feelings, claiming that you were blowing the situation out of proportion. It was a small southern town, after all - only a fool would expect its citizens to act like the middle-class white-collars from big northern cities. In fact, quite a few people had said that you were 'stuck-up', mostly Tinder dates for the record, so maybe that's what painted your night in the colours of doom: you just couldn't take it easy.

"I'm just gonna get some fresh air, alright?" Your words were accompanied by nervous laughter. Hopefully, a few cold breaths could clear your mind and who knows: maybe you could even laugh at your anxious discomfort. The aftermath of his unwelcomed touch felt hot on your skin like sunburn before the dead epidermis flakes away.

"Just don't run away, sweetie," Preston slurred a little louder than necessary. He was leaning on the bar counter and Rhett was quite convinced it was the only source of his balance. A shiver ran down your spine hearing his words - it was as if he had somehow known it was a viable option in your mind.

In an impressively big gulp, Mabel finished his beer, setting the bottle down loudly against the counter. Hearing that, the bartender watched him closely from underneath his eyebrows - experience taught him that Preston was showing symptoms of trouble.

"Bambi's mine," the man slurred to the ambivalent bartender before burping loudly.

Stepping away from the counter, Mabel swayed for a moment but caught his balance quite swiftly. Then, with a swing to his step, he followed you outside. When the backdoor closed behind him, the bartender sighed to himself and went back to serving beers and drinks.

Although the situation had nothing to do with him, Rhett's gut was telling him that something was bound to happen - and it wasn't going to be Christmas arriving early. Staring through the circular window in the backdoor, he watched Preston force you against the wall. His leg started to nervously bounce as Rhett tried to decide whether it was his problem or not. Whatever decision should he make, it had to come fast.

"Fuck this," Rhett whispered to himself and rushed outside.

You tried turning your head away from Preston as much as you could, suddenly feeling impossibly ashamed of your inability to set your foot down. Keeping your hands on his chest, you tried to keep his away from yourself but not as assertively as you probably should have: the only worse thing than a drunk creepy man was offended drunk creepy man. And there were too many stories of women 'mysteriously' disappearing from small towns.

"How 'bout we go to mine, sunshine?" he offered. His body language, however, was too forward and decisive for the offer to remain an open question - it was more as if he was stating the end result of the night. You were disillusioned that with the state Preston currently was in it was either 'yes' or 'convince me'.

"No, thanks. I should be going home," you answered as certainly as you could. It felt as if your heart was a frenzied beast kept in place only by the confines of your ribcage.

The sound of the backdoor being pushed open directed your attention towards the unexpected stranger. He caught your gaze, for a moment looking at Preston and the anger on his face became only more prominent.

"Come on, girl. Don't be a little prude," Mabel pushed on. It seemed quite funny that he thought calling anyone 'prude' would work in his favour.

"She said no, Pres."

Rhett's voice could hardly be described as calm, it was more of a warning - anger was boiling inside him like a bull waiting for the slightest glimpse of the red cape. Your breathing became ragged, realizing that the ordeal might get a whole new spin as Rhett Abbott didn't seem like a man who backs off easily.

Preston, however, was deaf to Rhett's words: his shaky hand reached for your face but Abbott grabbed his wrist before you could even wince at the incoming unwanted touch.

"She doesn't fuckin' want to, pal."

Only then, when he was physically restrained, did Preston finally acknowledge Rhett's existence:

"Go fuck yourself, Abbott. She's mine."

Without much thinking, Rhett took a swing and landed a punch square to Preston's jaw. Mabel stumbled backwards, visibly struggling to keep his balance. In shock, he touched his face but winced at the smallest touch. For a moment, Preston stood still - in disbelief that someone laid their hands on him.

"Apologize and go home, Preston," Rhett demanded as he moved to stand in front of you. His right fist was clenched, prepared to repeat the offence.

"You-..." Preston stuttered. Words simply wouldn't leave his mouth. "You fuckin'-..."

"I told you to apologize and go home," Rhett repeated. His persistence impressed you, leaving you grateful that it was a man like him who noticed your plight.

Probably still unable to believe he was put in his place, Preston Mabel threw a short 'sorry!' and disappeared around the corner of the building, stumbling over his own drunken feet.

"I've always wanted to do that," Rhett said quietly as he watched Preston Mabel cower away. Then his worried expression was directed at you and, somehow, the shadow of a man throwing fists seemed to be gone. His hand was no longer clenched. "You doin' alright?"

"Yeah, I guess," you answered while averting his gaze. Rhett noticed how you rubbed your arm awkwardly. "I mean, not now. But I will be. Not the worst thing that happened to me." Rhett would have asked about clarification, feeling his anger rise again but your uneasiness was too prominent and so he tried to chase his vigour away. He could ask about things worse than drunk Preston Mabel some other time - should it, hopefully, arrive. "Thank you."

"How'd you even know the guy?"

You felt a blush of embarrassment creep unto your cheeks remembering the events of the morning. Now that you thought about the earlier hours of the day, you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of your naivety. How humorously human it was - to be wise and reasonable only in hindsight.

"He stopped me in the streets," you confessed. Feeling your embarrassment only growing stronger, you started to mindlessly pick at your skin. Your statement elicited fairly mixed emotions from Rhett. On one hand, he was beyond bewildered that anyone could take Preston Mabel for a 'nice man' but at the same time, he found it somehow completely expected that you would get asked out in the streets - no matter how cliche the scenario might seem. You did look like that kind of woman: the type that Rhett would never even think of asking out, simply because the possibility of getting rejected was, quite frankly, ridiculously high to the point of being obvious. If he knew he had no chance with someone, there was no point in putting his neck or rather his ego's neck in the noose. "Seemed nice enough and it's not like I know many people 'round here, so I took a gamble. It's stupid, I know."

"No, it's not," he answered quickly. Confused, you look at his face not understanding the unexpected redemption of your actions. "Maybe a little."

His eyes were stuck to your face as you laughed at his words. The anxiety Preston managed to instil in you was fading away and the newfound relief only added to your sudden joy. Feeling how warmth sparkled inside his chest watching your amusement, Rhett began weighing his chances. He was disillusioned about the reality: the only thing he had that Preston didn't have was respect for others and the lack of tacky seashells. Rhett wasn't the type of man to shoot in the dark, taking a risk only when he's fairly certain of the net result but at the moment, standing outside The Handsome Gambler, he naively thought that maybe it was his shooting star of a chance.

"You think I could call you tomorrow?"

"Call me?" you repeated in a shocked tone. Rhett's heart sunk and for a moment he really wanted to slap his own face for ever thinking he could aim outside of his league. "It should be me, bringing a fruit basket to you."

You fished out a pen from your purse and, without warning him or asking, you wrote your phone number on the inside of his forearm. Rhett's hands were rough, littered with callouses and scars - hands of someone who knows the price of an honest and humble life. Rhett's knuckles were hot, and flushed, as the skin started to turn from red to purple. He was quite displeased with how quickly you scribbled the digits on his skin only to leave him cold in the absence of your hands.

"Just don't call before 8AM, I'm not an early bird. And I'm paying for dessert, cowboy."

Rhett's eyes glazed over the quick writing in black pen and a triumphant smile appeared on his face. Aside from the nine digits, you had scribbled something else:

"(Y/N)?" he read the few letters above the phone number. "Pretty name. So, (Y/N), you need a ride home?" Your name sounded quite odd coming from Rhett's mouth as if he was the only person in the world to pronounce it in a certain way - it sounded special.

"Sure, I'd love that."

Rhett Abbott might have known a thing or two about riding bulls but he was certain you were going to be a whole new rodeo for him - and that bull he wasn't falling off.

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