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empresskylo · 2 years

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𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you have always thought chief jim hopper was hot. and you knew he thought the same about you, he just tried to hide it because he thought it was wrong since he knew your dad and you were still in high school. however, after hopper crashes a house party, you ask him for a ride home. hopper briefly loses his self-control. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jim hopper x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut— unprotected sex, car sex, large age gap, reader still in high school but is eighteen, sorta rough sex? size kink, power dynamic. *if any of this bothers you, don’t read. 𝐰𝐜 | 2.9 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i now have dark!hopper fic ideas so if anyone has any requests lmk

*•.¸♡masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

「 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 」 [bonus gif added at the end] r.h. masterlist

Listen, it wasn’t your fault that you wrote for the school paper and that often led to you questioning the police about local crime scenes. And it wasn’t your fault that you encountered the chief of police, Jim Hopper, on almost every occasion. And it definitely wasn’t your fault that he was so good looking. What, were you supposed to pretend you didn’t find his authority and dad bod hot? But it might have been a little bit your fault that Hopper got stumped on the questions you’d ask him because you made sure to wear your shortest skirt those days.

Hopper was not a boy in your school who would fumble with his words and act stupid around someone he was attracted to. But still, you could tell that Hopper was into you, even if he hid it well. It’s like he expected your bombarding presence when anything remotely interesting happened in Hawkins. You’d show up, notebook in hand, and press him for details. You knew he was hard to crack. He was professional and no one could get information out of him… Well, except for you. You always managed to get him to spill some sort of top-secret information about the case–just enough for you to work with. And if that wasn’t obvious enough that he liked you, you also had caught him glancing over at you before, his eyes lingering on your exposed legs before quickly averting his gaze.

It was the weekend and you were busy celebrating this being your final year of high school by attending a party. You danced through the crowd of bodies, catching a glimpse of Steve Harrington working his charm on one of the popular girls in your grade. You rolled your eyes, he’d grow out of it eventually.

You didn’t think the party was too loud until a police siren sounded from outside the house. In a panic, students began running every which way, darting out of whoever’s house this was–you weren’t quite sure–and off into the streets and woods. You peered out the window and saw Hopper walking up to the door, yelling at a couple of kids as he did. You were glad you wore your favorite skit and a low-cut shirt tonight.

Before Hopper could bang on the door, you swung it open.

“Hi, officer,” you teased. His face was tense and his narrowed eyebrows made him appear threatening–nothing new here.

“What the hell are you dumb fucking kids thinking?” He yelled, spotting the drunk teenagers behind you as they darted out the back door to escape Hopper’s rage.

“It’s just a small get together.”

Hopper rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked around, most of the others had fled the scene, their laughing voices and hollering echoing down the neighborhood street.

This wasn’t even your house, you knew you couldn’t get in trouble for this. But you couldn’t help but swoon at the idea of Hopper putting you in handcuffs…

“Shows over. Go home.” He ordered at you and the small group who were watching from behind you in the living room. It must have been the kid who lived here and his close friends, who else would have the guts to stick around… Well, besides you, of course.

Hopper turned around and marched down the steps towards his truck. He didn’t get paid enough to deal with annoying seniors throwing a house party. His presence was enough to break the whole thing up, so he was calling that a job well done.

“Wait,” you called out to him, chasing him down the lawn. Hopper stopped in front of his vehicle and turned towards you, an annoyed scowl plastered across his unshaven face. “What?” His voice was dark and husky from lack of sleep.

“I…Don’t have a way home.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. You weren’t lying–now that everyone else had ditched, you really didn’t have a ride home, and it was late and dark out.

“Seriously?” He asked.

You could see the harsh lines from frowning all the time engraved on his forehead. Still, there was a softness to him. You knew he wouldn’t say no.

In a huff, he turned to get in his car, “Get in.”

You smiled, happy at your success, and jumped into the passenger side of his truck.

Hopper already knew where you lived, he was well acquainted with your dad, and in such a small town, everyone knew where everyone lived.

After Hopper had taken off down the road, you leaned over and turned on the radio. That earned an annoyed glance and a grunt from him. He reached out and turned the volume down, the low hum of The Rolling Stones playing out of his shitty speakers.

You looked out the window and rubbed your arms. Hopper didn’t pay much attention to what you were doing so you had to vocalize your intentions. “It’s cold in here.” Your arms laid bare to the chill Autumn weather. When Hopper didn’t respond, you began digging in the back compartment of his truck.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” He shot daggers at you before looking back at the road.

“Don’t you have an extra jacket or something in here?”

You turned back to him and he sat in silence, contemplating if he should do what his mind just told him to do. Jim was trying his hardest not to engage with you, he knew it would lead to no good. Against his better judgment, he slipped his coat off and shoved it at you.

You were genuinely surprised that he actually gave you his coat. You held it a bit dumbfounded before sliding it on. It was warm from his body heat and smelt of him. You felt a rush of blood rise to your cheeks as you drowned in Hopper’s coat that was evidently too big for you.

It was only a few more minutes before Hopper pulled up to your house, pulling over on the side of the street, bushes and trees in your front yard blocking any view from inside your house to Hopper’s truck.

You smiled and looked over at him, “Thanks.”

He had no excuse not to look at you now that he wasn’t driving. When he looked over, his jacket was engulfing you like a blanket, your exposed legs hanging out of it like it were a dress. His jaw tensed and he controlled himself from gulping. “Sure thing, kid.”

Maybe you’d be able to get out without him realizing you didn’t give him his coat back. You could sleep in it all night. And it would be a perfect excuse to go visit him at the station in the morning.

You went to open your door but it didn’t budge. You began shoving it with both your hands, but the stupid thing was jammed.

“Shit. Ron told me he fixed that damn thing for good,” he said annoyed. Just another thing added to the long list of shit he had to do.

You turned back to him in your seat, your face turning red when you got the idea of climbing over him to get out his door instead.

Before Hopper noticed what you were doing, your hand was on his arm and you were crawling over to him from your seat.

“What are you–” He asked in pure shock.

“Didn’t wanna inconvenience you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his as your hand rested against him. He didn’t shove you off or jump out of the truck to get away from you. Your eyes lingered up to his and you could see the darkness spread across him. His look intimidated you, sending a rush of heat right to your core.

You gained enough courage to continue on and climbed up onto his lap, awkwardly holding his chest for balance as you slid on top of him. There wasn’t much room so your body was forced close to his. He still didn’t say anything. It was making you nervous.

You grabbed his door handle and you were about to push it open and step off of him and onto the road when you felt his large hands grip your waist. You looked over at him and saw the way his pupils were blown and his breathing was deeper than before.

He yanked you down fully onto his lap prying a gasp from your lips. You sat, half-straddling him, and speechless.

Hopper came back to his senses all at once and released you, his hands falling to the side of his thighs before looking back at you in what appeared to be shock and horror.

You were so fucking right, Hopper was into you.

Your hands gripped his button-up uniform top as you looked at him with hooded eyes, unwilling to leave your spot on top of him.

Hopper’s chest was falling up and down in heavy breaths, his eyes searching yours as you held onto him like you were afraid he was going to shove you off.

He began to realize that you were okay with what he just did and you were now begging him to continue through your pouting lips and fluttering eyelashes.

One of his hands braved exploration and slid up your warm thigh leaving goosebumps in its wake. You took a sharp breath in at his touch. “Hopper…” Your voice was barely audible as your head spun from his intoxicating stare. You felt him begin to harden underneath you, his eyes searching yours for a response. With that, you crashed your lips against his, his mustache tickling your nose, wasting no time kissing you back. His other hand was under his jacket you wore and clutched onto your hip, pulling you towards him.

The amount of awful thoughts he’d had about you made him worry he wouldn’t be able to control himself when you stepped into his truck. It was why he tried so hard to avoid you whenever you were around. The temptation dripped off of him as he held you, knowing he was past the point of return. He couldn’t stop now.

He effortlessly pulled your weight down onto his lap, pressing you up against his growing bulge. You whined, the feeling of him against your core was making you wet beyond belief. His hands were large against you, he was able to hold most of your thigh in one hand as he squeezed it. You knocked his hat off as your hands came up to wrap around his neck while you kissed him, pushing your chest against his.

One of his hands slid between your bodies and under your skirt, his finger brushing against your soaking panties, making you jump. You momentarily pulled away from the kiss to let out a yelp as he began dragging his fingers back and forth.

His lip kicked up in a slight smirk as he watched you squirm on top of him, your weight rolling into his hand needily. He pushed your underwear aside and let one finger slide around your hole, then he gently pushed in.

You bit your lip, his eyes never leaving yours. His finger filled you and when he began to slide a second one in, he was met with some resistance. His fingers were large and easy enough to fill you, how on earth was he going to fit his–

Hopper was pondering the same question, his throbbing cock begging to escape his pants at the thought of how tight you were.

His fingers slid out of you, desperate to find release inside you. You hiked your skirt up so he could see the way your thigh billowed at the sides as his hand squeezed it. His hands left you to unbuckle his pants, awkwardly pushing up against you as he slid them down just enough for his length to spring out. You licked your lips and reached down, gripping his cock in your hand. You almost couldn't wrap your entire fingers around him; you always knew he was big.

You wanted him so fucking pathetically right now. Your hands held his shoulders as his own shoved your skirt up then grabbed his cock in one hand and shifted your panties to the side with his other. He lined himself up with you as you dripped in wetness, eagerly waiting.

He looked up at you, his eyes hungry with lust, his intense expression sending shivers up your spine. You slowly sank down on him, taking in his tip. You squeaked, already feeling like he wasn’t going to fit. His eyes shut, preventing himself from grabbing your hips and forcing you down to take him in all at once.

You slowly sank down further until you bottomed out, both of your breathing loud.

“Fuck,” he cursed. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he throbbed inside you, pressing against your cervix. Your skirt was hiked up above your belly button and his hands crawled up to your exposed waist. He lifted you up off him with such ease, wanting you to take him in again. With a loud moan from both of you, he guided you back down, small shocks of pain radiating through you at the quickness of his actions. You began to move on your own, slowly riding him up and down, your head bending towards his to avoid hitting the roof of his truck.

The pain of him stretching you out soon subsided and was replaced with pangs of pleasure. You picked up speed, your bodies sloppily colliding. “Jesus,” he growled. “You’re, ugh–so–fucking–tight,” he managed to get out between grunts. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you towards him as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, shifting the angle so his cock hit right at your g-spot each time he filled you up.

You began to let out soft whimpers, Hopper’s guttural growls masking the sounds you were making. You leaned forward, clinging on to him, your face buried in his neck and shirt as you continued to ride him. Your soft cries filled Hopper’s ear making him twitch inside you.

His arms wrapped around you and held you close. Your legs were starting to give out, your pace slowing. Filled with impatience at how slow you were going now, Hopper’s hand found his seat lever and pulled it, sending you both backward as it extended to an almost horizontal position. You were momentarily confused as to what he was doing until he rolled you over in one swift motion so you laid underneath him. Your legs widened so he could fit comfortably between them and he began thrusting into you. You squealed as he pounded into you with such force, you were certain his truck was rattling to the waves of Hopper’s thrusts. Your arms extended over your head and clutched the wall of his truck to help hold you in place as he forcefully slid into you time and time again. He was cursing against your lips before his forehead connected with yours. His breath was hot against you as he panted.

You felt yourself getting dangerously close. In a small voice you spoke, “Hopper, I’m…Gonna–”

He continued to fuck into you, your legs as far apart as they could be, wanting him to hit you as deeply as he could. “Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck,” he swore, his cock twitching inside you as he thrusted. In a loud groan, you felt him begin to spill into you, sending you over the edge as well. You mewled under him, your legs shaking as he kept his speed, his cock sending spurts of hot liquid into you. His hands roamed your body, not able to touch enough of you as he came. One of his hands came up and rested on the side of your cheek and partially in your hair, pulling in into his fist. Your name pooled off his tongue as he gave one last deep release inside you, his thrusts beginning to slow now. You panted under his weight as he came to a stop. He collapsed on top of you, both of your faces covered in sweat. Liquid dripped out of you as he gently pulled out. He was out of breath as he grabbed you into his arms and rolled you both over so you were laying on him instead.

After laying there in heavy breathing filled silence, he began to sit up, taking you with him as he did. You sat on his thighs as he shimmied his pants back around his waist and let his seat swing back to its usual position.

A small wave of fear-filled Hopper’s newly cleared mind. “You’re eighteen…Right?”

You giggled, “If I say yes, does that mean we can do this again?”

His eyes widened before you began climbing off of him. “I’m kidding,” you said, dragging your words out. “I’m eighteen, you idiot.”

Hopper let his thoughts untangle themself before he turned to you. “We probably shouldn’t do this again. I shouldn’t have even let this happen tonight.” How was he going to face your father the next time he saw him without remembering the way you looked when you rode him tonight?

You jumped out of his truck, leaning against his lap as you stood on the pavement. “Okay. We won’t do this again then,” you said with a shit-eating grin. You knew Hopper wouldn’t be able to resist you now, so it didn’t matter what he said. He watched you walk towards your house, your skirt flowing back and forth as you walked. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in his fists as he already felt himself begin to get hard again watching the way his jacket looked on you as it engulfed your small frame.

bonus gif [yes it’s actually d.h.]

part 2

#jim hopper #jim hopper smut #hopper #hopper smut #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper fanfic #stranger things #stranger things smut #smut #hopper st4 #chief jim hopper #chief hopper #jim hopper x reader #insert fic #hopper x reader #stranger things hopper

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hanihazeljade · 27 days

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Three Weeks

As the snow fell into the streets of Gotham, covering her land with white sheet, he stepped out of the plane. He shivers. He missed the deadly coldness of his hometown. The pollution never seemed to change back when he left 7 years ago. He sighed, white mist blowing out of his mouth. He will only need to stay here for three weeks. Three weeks and he will go back to Japan.

After many years of being away to his adopted family, Tim comes back to Gotham for Cassandra and Stephanie's wedding.

(CW: flashbacks, negligence, swear words, a badass Timothy)

Tim looks outside of the bus. His eyes watch the streets of Gotham. Christmas lights are on as it was 5 days away from Christmas. He watched and watched, like he always did, as classical music blasted to his airpods until the bus hit the stop to Bristol.

In all honesty, he could ask Alfred to fetch him but the man is now too fragile to his liking to be doing him favours. He rather takes the 40 minute walk from the station to Wayne Manor. He doesn’t mind the cold, he actually prefers to be freezing every single moment of his life. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the burning desert in Iraq.

With his suitcase on his tow, he started walking to the peaceful street of Bristol. The snow gently falls into his face and quickly melts but some falls into his lashes and brows and he couldn’t bring himself to wipe it off. He likes the small blur on his sight, it shows that he doesn’t have to stay vigilant in this city. Twenty minutes into the walk, he saw the Drake Manor, still in its pristine shape, hopefully. He walked as he tried to look past the gates of the once house of his, snow is piling up but he will be visiting it once he gets his stuff unpacked.

As he starts to get closer and closer to the Wayne Manor, nostalgia hits him. The good memories flood his mind. Bruce giving them a small pat or rarely hugs, Dick trying to spoil all of his siblings, Cass putting glitter bombs to the most unique places together with Stephanie, Jason joking his death again and again, Damian giving them Alfred the Cat as a stress reliever, and Alfred giving them hot cocoa on the worst days and cookies on the best.

But obviously, if it's all just good memories, he will not leave Gotham. The bad to the worst memories starts to resurface. The threat of Arkham, the throat-slitting episode, the pushing to his death story, the I choose to follow Batman rather than to be honest with you thing, the hellish training with Lady Shiva and many more that he couldn’t remember. He shook his head to remove those memories. It’s been more than a decade since that happened and he has healed already. No need to reopen old wounds.

His time in Japan definitely made him more aware that he doesn’t need other people to love him. He can just do it himself. He starts to sleep for more than 6 hours a night. He eats three times a day, sometimes with a balanced diet, sometimes just pure sodium for ramen or just straight up scooping Nutella out of the jar. He now prioritises himself over others. He works for himself and not to get approval from anyone. He is now him, just Tim. A simple Tim that loves to photograph and now be the object of his photographs.

Many things change over the course of time. He forgives the Waynes but he will never call himself one. Waynes never treats him like family, except for Cass, bless her pure heart, and he is now giving it back, the treatment of an acquaintance. Not family. Not friends. But acquaintances. That’s all the Waynes are to him now. Because god forbid that his teenage self is simply obsessed with them. He rolled his eyes on the thought.

As he was letting his thoughts wander, he finally arrived at the prestigious Wayne Manor. The gates are open so he let himself into the other five minute walk of the driveway. As he stared at the old oak wood door, he sighed, trying to compose himself as he will be in their presence for the next three weeks. After trying to console himself, he knocks hoping that it will be Alfred who will open the door for him. After a few minutes of waiting on the porch, the door opened, revealing the foyer of the Manor and Alfred standing in front of him.

“Hi, Alfred.” Tim smiled at the old man.

Alfred, still in shock but smiled back to him, “Welcome back, Master Tim.”

And then suddenly there is a commotion behind Alfred, making the two gentlemen on the doorway look. It shows Damian and Jason. Seems like the two are trying to race to see which one will get to the door first. Childish competitions, like what brothers do. Jason and Damian look at them, first to Alfred and next to Tim. And he looked back at them, giving them a gentle smile.

“Hi, Timmerly. You look different.” Jason spoke out of the blue.

“Thank you, Jason.” He said, “You look different, too.” he added. Jason has indeed changed. The white stripe of hair due to the dip is still there but the face and the body itself evolved. Jason looked taller than he last saw him, The tight wool sweater emphasises the bulk body of Jason. And that face of his, is always exceptional but more relaxed.

There he heard a cough and gave his attention to the person. “Timothy, you look alright.” Damian said, standing in his glorious 6 foot 3. His tanned skin is honeyed perfection and his build is more similar to Bruce and Jason. Green eyes looked at him like it was captivating his soul. The Demon Brat is gone and was replaced by a hulking man.

He was shocked for a fleeting second before replying, “Thank you, Damian.”

“Young Masters, as much as I like that the three of you are conversing like normal human beings, Master Timothy needs to go inside first. It is freezing out there.” Alfred interrupts them and tells Jason and Damian that he is still indeed on the porch. Jason without waiting a moment, went and grabbed his suitcase and he proceeded to go inside the manor.

Tim asked Alfred, “Where will Jason put my suitcase?”

“In your room, Master Tim. I mean, your old room.”

“Oh.” He just said as he took off his scarf and coat and gave it to Alfred, as he left the three on the foyer.

He starts walking into the Manor and walks past the library with the rest that didn’t meet him on the door. Steph and Cass are cuddling each other on the couch while Bruce is on the loveseat fiddling something in the tablet, probably about Wayne Enterprise, and Dick is on one of the bean bags that is scattered in the library. The first one to notice him is Cass, of course.

“Little brother, welcome.” She said as she reached out one of her arms to him. Her acknowledgement of his presence makes everyone in the room aware of his existence.

“Timmy!” Dick shouted as went to him and hugged him. It kinda still startled him a little bit, but he awkwardly hugged Dick back.

Bruce gave him a smile, “Welcome back, Tim.”

Steph hit his back, “When Cass actually told us that you will come for our wedding, we didn’t believe her.“

Tim touched the spot Steph hit, “I would not miss it for the world.” Then he walked to Cass, “Hey, sis.” Cass smiled back at him. “Winter wedding, really?”

“Hey, winter weddings are beautiful. And Cass will look like an angel.”

“And you are the demon that made Cassandra fall down from heaven.” A voice joined them, it’s Damian.

“Hey! That’s mean!”

The chaos and noises are relatively relaxing but when he yawns, he excuses himself. “Going to sleep, Timmy?” He nodded and replied with, “Jetlagged.”

Tim tried to remember where his room was. And thank god, he found it with no anomalies. He entered the room and saw the room that he left. The room is completely gone with cans of energy drinks or packaging of junk foods. The bed is comforting as he remembers, he saw his suitcase next to the nightstand. He opens it and gets a fitted cashmere turtleneck and fleece sweatpants. He took a quick shower and changed. He laid down on the bed and let sleep take him.

He woke up the sun already down and darkness already took the city. He grabbed his phone and looked at what time it was. 8:05 am. Huh?? Oh, his phone is still in the Japanese Time Zone. He quickly changes it and freshens up. He looked at the wide mirror in his bathroom, and assessed himself. He knows he changed when he moved to Japan. His toned body was dissolved into a more lean one. His hair was maintained into a shoulder length, but his hair is shining with a red undertone in the right light. He has an ear piercing. His face was more round and yet still sharp. He got taller but still the smallest to Wayne, even Cass is taller than him. No, he is not salty about it.

He scooped up a handful of water and splashed his face and hair. Once he could feel his rationality and sanity came back to him, he dried his face and went down to the kitchen. He needs something to ingest in his body, anything. He saw Alfred was making something in the kitchen.

“Master Tim, you are finally awake. Will you please call the others for dinner?”

“Sure, Alfred.”

He found everyone in the largest living room. Damian and Dick playing chess, Damian is winning. Stephanie is doing something together with Duke. Bruce is with Cass flipping in the catalogue of whatever they still need to add to the wedding.

“Hey, Alfred told me to get you all. Dinner is ready.”

Dinner is rather peaceful, but rather uncomfortable. Whenever his eyes linger for a little second longer on a dish, Dick is already putting it on his plate. Damian kept on giving him a piece of whatever Damian thought he liked. Jason is spoon feeding him on dishes on what Jason thinks he will like. If this continues, he will be fat and as a model he would rather not have that. The Japanese Modelling World is so strict when it comes to thinness of their own.

But after that dinner, he sighed as walked to his room, he grabbed a velvet box and went to what he thinks is Cass' room.

He knocked, then he opened the door. Waynes are known for just busting your door open before coming in, because apparently, privacy is a social construct. Tim is not a Wayne anymore and also he is one of the decent people who actually knocks before coming inside of someone’s personal space.

“Hey Cass. I got you something.” he said as he looked at his sister.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, he pulled a velvet box and gave it to Cass. Cass accepts it and opens the blue velvet box, revealing a silver hair comb pin. Cass looked at him with huge eyes. He smiled at his sister, “My mother wore that at her wedding. She says my grandmother and my great grandmother also wear that to their wedding, and I feel like I am not the rightful owner of such a piece.”

Cass hugged him. He missed how tight Cass hugs him. The comfortable warmth that brings pleasant memories only, none of those scorching heat of Iraq. Maybe, maybe he can stay here for three weeks for Cass. For Cass.

#fanfic #dcu #timothy jackson drake #damian wayne #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #cass #steph #dick grayson

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your-queer-dad · 1 month

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Hey Queer dad, I only just found this blog, but I'm writing you anyway, I Don't want to be anonymous, I want my name attached to my story I fear that I'm probably going to explain myself poorly but here goes anyway I am going to be 24 years old this May, I've been on E since 10 - 2020 Ive had to move out to live with my boyfriend of 3 years and it feels like I've all but abandoned my dreams of going through college as an engineer, things were hard to keep up with when covid struck and now I'm a trans-woman living in Georgia USA, I understand that its not as good as my home-state of New York on trans issues, but I have my BF and his Family who are supportive... I'm SCARED as of late sure I live in a fairly chill part of the state, but i'm SCARED like big time, its making my mental health journey harder, and I'm finding a lot of VERY bad thoughts creeping in, mostly about my appearance and all that, I don't look all that fem when i have trouble taking care of my day-to-day hygiene,

My dad is ""Supportive"" as far as accepting the fact that I'm his daughter now, but he and most of my extended family still doesn't use my pronouns or chosen name. My mom, well she left this world, and me alone in it, sure she was never the best to me, but she would have been the one person to support me. When she left I promised myself and her that I would take the little support I spit on and ground into the dirt as a teenager and actually be true to myself.

I know that at this point I am rambling, but I want to put meaning and journey behind my words THANK YOU, for being here for us. THANK YOU for providing a space for us to ask questions, and get parental style advice when we have no-one else and I ask of you this, how does one find community in this world when one struggles to navigate the fear she feels from the world around her?

Hi!! Thank you so much for reaching out. Honestly, it sounds like you've had such a rough time and I am really proud of you. Thank you for sharing your story, I appreciate it, and I'll do my best to help out.

Personal story time: I myself was (and still am sometimes) in a very similar situation myself. And it is scary, it's really isolating to see so much hate from others just for being yourself, and it makes you want to withdraw and hide. And I hid, for so long- it's really hard to show your true self in a world so full of hate and fear.

But I did, slowly, step by step. A little bit every day. Us humans, we're not supposed to be on our own. We're pack animals, like wolves or lions, we thrive off other people's company (some more than others). With mental health, when all you want to do is hide and let the world forget that you exist, what helps you the most is finding others who feel like it and can help.

Easier said than done right?

I'm still working on it, and there's never going to be a stage where you're perfect at it- but every day, just actively trying to engage with others around you, I found helped me. Not running away when people offer help, speaking to new people, finding my local queer community- just actively being aware of my surroundings and gently pushing myself to talk to new people.

The worlds a lot less scary when you have an army of support behind you.

It takes time, and energy. It's hard. And definitely baby steps, small steps. But there are so many good people out there, who will love you and accept you and value you, you just have to find them.

I'm really proud of you, I'm always here if you need someone to talk to and feel free to reach out anytime. Everything will be okay.

- dad x

#ask a finch!#what a lovely ask #lgbt #finch rambles #lgbtq #lgbtqia #trans #transgender #queer positivity #trans joy

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not-an-anagram · 3 months

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Homestuck Fic Recs

Because some of these do not have nearly the amount of attention I think they deserve, and also because I am constantly looking for other people’s list of fic recs so I thought I’d make my own. Some of these are series, so you have been warned.

All fics are on AO3, idk if they’re available anywhere else. With some of these updating is a bit up in the air, I will just put hiatus if it hasn’t been updated sooner than 2021, even if the hiatus is not official.

“” Description

() My personal opinions

Recently Updated:

Reallocated by BreezefulSkies in progress

“Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there.Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.”

(I didn’t know whether to put this in the Recently Updated section or the Self Insert section. Not technically a self insert but more of a sort-of time travel. Very engaging and I honestly love the exploration of characters we know less about like Rose’s Mom. 10/10 would recommend, I get so excited every time I see it’s updated)

Ship Centric:

Love Letters in Digital Ink by tactfulGnostalgic complete

“In which Rose Lalonde runs a highly successful occult blog, wherein she talks about life, friendship, family, summoning the dark forces to do your bidding, romance, and other Typical Teenage Things.And in which Kanaya Maryam moves into the house next door, runs a mildly popular photojournaling fashion/cosplay blog, and, unbeknownst to Rose, is one of her most avid readers.And in which a summer courtship is performed through a series of message-board shenanigans, misunderstandings, daydreaming, awkward romantic overtures, indirect love letters, and one (1) séance.”

The Worst Goddamn Movies Ever Fucking Made by writerbot complete

“"Why is this shitfuck pan-rotting pile of artifact-ridden, glitchy, nonsensical sewage that can barely pass itself off as a movie somehow a thoughtful criticism on the global rise of authoritarianism and well-put commentary on how young working class males are forced into the military? What the actual fuck? Why do none of the other reviews mention this?"--Aka famous movie director "D Strider" pays Karkat to review his shitty movies, and Karkat grows increasingly alarmed that they actually mean something under all of the mind-numbing bullshit. Meeting Strider, the biggest douchebag in the world, does not help. Also he keeps meeting this annoyingly smart human kid and his awkward/obnoxious but very hot guardian. These two things are entirely unrelated.”

(Recently finished! One of my absolute favorites due to the fact that it really explores alternate world building and includes the Strider/Lalonde family pretty heavily, which I really appreciate as a fan of their characters. Also not too ooc, although the situations are definitely very different from cannon. Honestly I would love to read a prequel that explains more of the cast’s stories but it’s very good even without one.)

Self-Inserts:

Matter of Choices and Opinions by 09Pyros_09Hydros hiatus

“Eridan Ampora is not the most well-liked troll out of the twelve, his attitude, choices, and personality in the series weren't very favorable but I found him alright and a lot of other fans did as well. March Eridan was also popular for the character of course.

How I got into his body after his first pupation molt is something I will probably never know, but living the life of Eridan Ampora is not all fine and dandy despite his high caste blood. Troll society and culture is very different compared to my old human one, I can't really remember it and my own old life so I guess I really am Eridan Ampora now huh?

If I was going to live as Eridan then I was going to live it my way, so say goodbye to Canon Eridan attitude and hello new world of choices and opinions! For one thing for sure, I wasn't going to fuss over the romances and do my own thing. Canon timeline be damned! Canon timeline be damned indeed... If only it were that easy...

But who knew the change of attitude of one character like Eridan could change so much? And yet, change so little? And apparently... He wasn't the only Ampora to change...”

(OML this is one of the best Homestuck SI fics I have ever read. Shoutout to this author because this (and their other Homestuck SI stuff) is amazing. I was absolutely hooked despite the rare premise and I am still sad it hasn’t updated since 2020. Absolutely stunning formatting and great art.)

Actions and Hope, Blast It All by 09Pyros_09Hydros hiatus

“It was suppose to be a normal day for Jane Crocker, work on the new laws, make sure the troll population was under control, deal with the stupid clown that was obsessed with her and then come home to a loving husband and their first born child. It was supposed to be that way anyway. What she actually came back to was a new husband that was destroying her home and her drones, demanding for a divorce and fiercely protective over their child.Waking up in Jake English's body after reviving from some death was bad, especially when it turned out to be drunken suicide. Waking up in Jake English's body during the Epilogue was even worse. Now he had a kid to take care of, a megalomaniac, fascist and tyrantess wife who's cheating on him with a deranged clown fuck, an existential crisis in realizing he was actually a part of the original Jake English and two brain ghosts who are just as confused on his situation as he was. But one thing was clear; He was taking Tavros and getting the hell away from Jane. Jane, Gamzee, the whole fucking Epilogue can kiss his ass, Dirk Ultimate was coming and he was NOT going to be involved with this horse shit. Of course in the end, he had to be involved anyway.”

(Again, absolutely stunning fic. This author is amazing at these stories, and despite only having three chapters so far, I cannot recommend this fic more. Please, it is worth the fact that we may never read the ending if only because it is so good and I am so happy to have read it. Seriously check this fic out.)

IN WHICH A HUMAN IS HUMAN ISEKAI-ED INTO HOMESTUCK by Zakyuu hiatus

“AND PROMPTLY DESTROYS ANY SEMBLANCE OF COHERENCE IN THE TIMELINE DUE TO SEVERAL COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF IRRATIONAL RATIONALITY, BADLY PRESENTED GOOD DECISIONS, AND THE EVER ACCURSED ABILITY OF COMMON SENSE.ALONG THE WAY, THE MAIN PROTAGONIST CREATES QUESTIONABLE SCENARIOUS THROUGH EGREGIOUS AMOUNTS OF ACCIDENTAL SHENANIGANS, AND PROCEEDS TO DIG DEEPER INTO THE CHAOTIC MESS OF A TIMELINE IN AN EFFORT TO SAVE CONTINUITY.THE MAIN PROTAGONIST WOULD LIKE THE READERS TO KNOW THAT THIS IS *NOT THEIR FAULT* AND THEY ARE TRYING THEIR BEST, OKAY?”

(Very good by my standards, wish there were more updates.)

One-Shots:

Probably We’ll All Survive by CurliecueCal

““If he pokes me again I am going to snap his chopstick in half and put it down the garbage disposal.” -- In which Dave's house has been taken over by Strider-splinters and he's pretty okay with that.”

(I love stories about the striders and this one-shot was really sweet and hit me right in the feels. Love strider content+this author is one of my favorites.)

This Human Practice of Couchsurfing by recourse (liquidCitrus)

“Dave Strider double-checks the address written on the scrap of paper in his hand. This is probably the right house. Probably. "I've been talking with him over the Internet. He said that he'd be quite willing to show a dude around 'New New Home'? And talk about monster society? And offer me... spaghetti...?"In which Dave Strider is invited to visit the monsters' recently established surfaceside village by Papyrus, Undyne gets a pair of sunglasses, and Frisk pays a midnight visit.Rated T for swearing. Well, Dave swearing, anyway.”

(Cute little Undertale Crossover, not much to say other than that, good read.)

surf where white bones twist by oriflamme

“When Roxy kills the Condesce and inherits the Empire, she also inherits her monsters.”

(Loved this AU, so sad it’s just a One-Shot, 100% recommend check it out.)

Other Recs:

Stabdads by lucky_spike hiatus

(This is basically a Stabdads AU centered around Karkat and Spades Slick. I, personally, love this AU because I adore the found family trope and I also love the Midnight Crew’s characterization in this. There is definitely not enough stabdad content out there but this series sure does deliver. Series doesn’t need to be read in order, but it is great for binging. Not complete and hasn’t updated since 2012 but that is not a reason to avoid it.)

So It Goes by TGP complete

“They managed to win the game somehow. He's not really sure of the details, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. He's stuck in an unfamiliar body with a thirteen year old little brother who's terrified of him. Somehow, he is sure this is his fault.”

(This fic is so good!!!! Classic case of an oldie but a goodie. Post-Canon AU where the Alpha kids get transported into the bodies of their counterparts in the Beta universe and shenanigans follow. Lots of angst in the beginning but I absolutely loved everyone’s characterization in this, please check this fic out. It is part of a series and I definitely recommend the sequels, which really helped bring the story to a good place. I love this fic and the sequels so much I keep finding myself going back to them, 100% my kind of comedy.)

Midnight’s Son by Java_bean complete

“Dave Strider's father, a prominent detective, is tasked with infiltrating the Midnight Crew. Dave, worried about his father's safety, decides to do a little undercover work of his own and tries to befriend the boss's son, Karkat Vantas.”

(Back at it again with the Stabdad AUs! Found it when looking for Stabdad content, fell in love with the DaveKat dynamic. Very nice to read, especially loved the Karkat characterization. Highly recommend)

The Longest Surviving Intern at Nightfall Community Radio by ElektricAngel complete

“A boy with red eyes and white hair walked into town today. He was carrying a long, sharp sword, which, according to some reports, was dripping with fresh blood. He wore a pair of dark glasses over his eyes.

So how do I know his eyes are red? Well, listeners, because he’s in the studio right now, staring at me.

He wants to know if I have a DJ position available.

This being a talk show with absolutely no music of any kind, I'm afraid I do not have such a position. However...an internship has just opened up.”

(I’m not a huge Nightvale fan but this crossover was still a very fun read. 10/10 would recommend.)

#homestuck #fic rec #fan fiction #fan fiction recommendation #fic recommendation #homestuck fic rec

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pornaddictioncounseling · 7 months

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CRAFTING SELF-MADE LAWS: FINDING PURPOSE BEYOND ADDICTION

I know.

It sounds cliché.

“You do you!”

You see it on inspirational Instagram influencers’ pages, hear it in TedTalks, and read it in just about every self-help book you could ever pick up.

But it’s my thought for the day and it’s important so I need you to stick with me.

Sexually compulsive behavior erodes your value system over time. It deteriorates the values introduced to you and built up by your society, religion, family, culture, and so on. Many of us were exposed to pornography at a very young age so we learned feelings of shame and guilt early on. Those feelings carried into our teenage years and adulthood and have lingered ever since.

How do you put together a sturdy set of values when your perception is skewed? Where do you begin when you’re still filled with guilt and shame after losing control of one of your most basic instincts at a very young age? What do you do to establish a strong foundation and build up your values again?

A QUOTE FROM SIR RICHARD FRANCIS BURTON

Sir Richard Francis Burton was a British explorer who lived during the 19th century. He’s credited with discovering areas throughout Asia, Africa, and the Americas. Burton is also well-known for being a polyglot, meaning he spoke multiple languages fluently. His historical resume is impressive and did a lot of incredible things during his lifetime.

I read a biography about him one time and found a quote in the book that has stuck with me ever since:

“Do what thy manhood bids thee do, from no one but self expect applause. He noblest lives and noblest dies who makes and keeps his self-made laws.”

Now, bear in mind before you continue, Sir Richard Francis Burton was a racist. There’s no denying his awfully racist beliefs. Morally speaking, he’s nowhere close to being a role model, a mentor, or someone whose main ideas you should adhere to. But when it comes to courage, there’s a lot you can learn from him.

If you can learn to expect applause from no one but yourself, you become unstoppable. There’s no groveling for the attention or approval of others. You don’t need to look to anyone else for validation when you can validate yourself. This is the first step toward re-developing the self confidence and self-esteem that you lost long ago.

Admittedly, there are all kinds of definitions of noble. Again, it’s undeniable that Burton was a racist. His self-made laws included abhorrent beliefs about people of African descent. Still, he had a solid set of self-made laws he lived by unapologetically.

CREATE YOUR OWN LAWS

You have to make your own laws to live by. I don’t mean live a lawless life full of adultery and killing; those are not noble pursuits. What I mean is you need to set your own standards while you’re rebooting because you have a long way to go to get beyond average.

Men who develop pornography addiction early on fall behind as they grow up. Trying to measure yourself by the success and standards of your peers will leave you feeling less than and not good enough. And you need to move beyond the status quo, anyways. You have a lot to make up for after squandering the gift of life you’ve been given.

Men also have different ideas of what happiness and success look like. For some, having a wife and kids is the pinnacle of a well-lived life. For others, building a successful business and creating jobs is the ultimate goal to work toward. Don’t look externally for a set of standards to live by; determine them for yourself and start working toward them.

BE WARY OF WHAT TESTOSTERONE BIDS YOU TO DO

The first part of that quote is shaky ground for men who struggle with compulsive sexual behavior. You can never fight against your biology but you must be wary of what testosterone would have you do. The standards and values you develop should be far from the things that led you down the path of pornography addiction.

Run your urges through your filters and talk them over with an accountability partner. While you always need to follow your self-made laws at the end of the day, you should also be cautious when it comes to laws about your sexual behavior.

TAKE HONEST STOCK OF YOUR LIFE

Where are you at in life right now? How are you doing? Take a moment to consider this and answer honestly. If you look around and realize you’re not living a good life, it’s time to make some changes. You might be poor, lazy, or weak. Maybe you don’t feel masculine or you’re constantly envious of other men.

So ask yourself, what does your manhood bid you do?

For me, my manhood bids me work hard so I can live the life I want to and not be broke. My manhood bids me take care of my aging parents and my family. My manhood bids me work hard in the gym so I can stay strong, in shape, and have a good physique. My manhood bids me continue building a strong relationship with my long-term partner.

My manhood also bids me help men like you in the Porn Addiction Counseling – Reboot program who are trying to overcome their out-of-control sexual behavior. My self-made laws center around helping other men out of the same predicament I found myself in all those years ago.

When I base my life around these self-made laws, I feel like I’m on the right path and heading in the right direction. I never question the way I’m going because I’ve made and am now keeping my self-made laws.

Now it’s your turn. What are your self-made laws and how do you plan to keep them? It’s time to get to work, brother. We’re in pursuit of a noble life.

youtube

#health & fitness #youtube #Youtube

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awonderlandsystem · 1 year

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Super Baked thought trains that are rambly and likely cried through 🚂💨

Out of all the headmates I probably, definitely, have the most anxiety issues. I try to downplay it but some days are really bad when fronting. Usually ends up with me getting front stuck. The panic attacks have started to trigger Omi. That's been helpful. But she had me make a list of everything I can do to calm myself down. Halo's been pushing our journals a lot. Not just to write down day to day stuff but other things too.

I used to go right to music when I was feeling overwhelmed. But music can be a tricky tool because it can trigger emotional reactions. The wrong song choice and instead of calming down I become a crying dork. Or angry which affects Eva. Halo has been listening to these ASMR videos on YouTube. Omi suggested I try one and I think it works pretty good. I like the scratchy sounds. And the hair brushing ones. I usually stick to just the noise ones. Halo likes the android and robot repair ones. She says they help her adjust to the front. Zoe goes for the silly ones. And some eh, dirtier ones. Eva recently started trying them too. She likes this french lady that does like old victorian ones.

Halo says it's important to have as many plans in place for self care and routine as we can. Living outside my head is super hard. Being in the moment is super hard. I think we're doing better. Mostly. Trying to not beat myself up so much of my shortcomings and celebrate the small victories.

R is super depressed right now because he broke his computer. I've tried to stay as quiet and invisible as possible. The things he says, I know I'm not supposed to let his words hurt me but what about the kids? That's why I told my mom it's so important we go. R needs help. I need help. But neither of us have made that step. He won't because he's in denial. There's nothing wrong with him, in his eyes. If I would just do my job and shut up and make him happy. I can't help but think that if he really loved me he'd be trying harder to help instead of constantly belittling and putting me down. I don't deserve that. I may not be perfect, not even close really, but no one deserves that.

I feel like I've been on auto pilot so long that I've forgotten what the world's like outside these walls. I see media or stories from recent years and it's pretty scary, depressing mostly. R lays it on thick by making sure to tell me every time there's a shooting near by. I think that definitely adds to the fear of going places. I see people I went to school with or worked with but I don't recognize them. I don't remember them. I just know I should know them. I have to understand the past to know what I need to learn but keep getting stuck in it because it feels more familiar than the last 15 years. All I can think is how do I even explain this to a therapist? Where do I even start? What happens if they think I'm not fit to be a parent? What happens if they don't think I'm fit to take care of myself? What happens if the blackouts come back? I think those are my biggest worries. I've never lived on my own. I feel like I'm 36 years old with the life experience of a teenager. I better stop before I get front stuck.

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kirascottage · 3 years

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dating jj maybank

jj maybank x gender neutral. reader

word count: 1.8k

cw: headcanons, overall domestic fluff, angst if you squint till ur visions blurry, mentions of poor emotional expression, mentions of sex / sexual innuendos, mentions of fighting / injury, strong pda, kissing, consensual groping, swearing, soft!jj

okay so this is the first time i’ve ever written dating headcanons so i’m gonna try my best

• jj and expressing emotions are a very complicated duo and almost everyone knows it, including you. he knows how he feels for you, and feels it strongly, but the way it comes out of his mouth is like gibberish and completely not understandable.

“so you know — like — i don’t know, man. i feel heavy for you, like do you feel heavy for me, too?”

“jj, i don’t even know what heavy means in this context and what you’re referring to.”

• but he comes from a good place, and you come to know, learn and love that, because well he loves you, and with jj you just have to infer by his mess of words.

• this boy tries to be as romantic as possible but he’s literally never had a s/o before. the only thing he knows are one nighters so there is a lot that pope and john b advise him on because miscommunication is quite literally the worst. (stated by john b himself)

• for this instance and the sake of the headcanons: you are a member of the pogues, through and through.

• so most of the time you’re together, the pogues are there too. even dates. they love to occupy and jj could shout at the top of his lungs how they are the biggest cock-blockers to ever exist and they would not care.

• so at that point he doesn’t even try to keep his hands to himself, he will touch you or quite literally make out with you in front of anyone and everyone he can.

• i mean he can get a little protective. (also considering he would never let you around his dad because he wants to protect you and would never let you near anyone that could hurt you)

• i mean this guy would fight for you till the very end; punches thrown countless of times and harsh words absolutely shouted more times than you could count on your fingers, but no matter how many times you chastise jj, he would never stop to defend your honour because at the end of the night you’re the one playing with his hair and kissing his cuts and bruises.

• especially after everything as well with rafe, topper and the kooks he just wants everyone (including the tourons you see once a millennium) to know that you and him are romantically involved and you are very much taken.

• he even lets the most irrelevant people know the both of you are dating because he loves you that much:

“okay, babe, here me out—”

“jj a whole group of kids just asked me about our relationship! i love you, but the whole population does not need to know that we’re together.”

“obviously we can't tell the whole population! or I would, duh.”

• even though he could blabber on about everything about you, including what shampoo you use and which perfume of yours is his favourite, affection is more his style:

• this includes walking around with his hand in your back pocket because wearing anything but jean shorts is really not an option in that heat, (and this does include ass grabbing at every opportunity he can)—

• — his hand gently placed on your thigh while driving / while he’s next to you, interlocking pinkies 98% of the time as you walk together —

• — and peppering kisses is always happening. whether they’re ticking at your checks, suffocating your neck or affectionately placed on your forehead he’s always kissing you.

• other key, and essential, things that come to mind are that his arm is always around you; after everything that’s happened to him he just needs to physically know you’re there and that’s enough to subdue him.

• it’s almost routine for him arm to go around your waist or your shoulder, whether you’re tall or short, tbh he doesn’t really care, his arms and lips are always on you.

• dating jj is dating a teenage boy with absolutely no impulse control and zero control over what he says—

“I mean, dude, if you think about it, why isn’t a banana called a yellow if an orange is called an orange? and why are phones called ‘telephones’ like who the fuck came up with that crap?”

“i mean, hey, we could bang out here and it’s not like anyone would know. like jb could be out in the living room and be like clueless.”

“jj, there’s two windows pointing directly at us. i think he would know.”

• —if you don’t understand then he definitely does not either.

• you also flip each other off a lot and people are like ??? but you both are like — fuck you —(affectionate & full of love with my middle fingers)

• one thing he does know is how to flatter you, whether he’s obnoxiously winking at you or bringing you flowers with his tips from work, or he picked them himself, it’s all in the effort.

• any effort from you is like kids getting their favourite toy they’ve been wanting on christmas, for instance: anytime you bring him food, or offer to stay with him at john b’s is like swelling up his heart to the maximum.

• so when he’s not with you, or the pogues, which is rare he is outside. and jj is like diego the explorer he always finds little places just for himself, or for this instance with you.

• so a lot of dates include going to these secluded spots: sometimes it’s a picnic, or a walk, and stargazing is his absolute favourite as he listens to you drone on about the constellations and even just watching the sky with your presence next to him is so comforting and makes him feel safe.

• of course when the pogues find out they’re brutal with their teasing.

“awww, look at the cute and happy couple!”

“my wittle babies, growing up so fast.”

“god, kie, you make it sound like we’re five?!”

• speaking of alone time, jj loves to cuddle when you guys are alone and that’s one thing he’s not fond of being teased about.

• his head is firm on your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg flung over your hips. to him it’s just a perfect way to start and end the day.

• he also loves to watch movies while cuddling and he has a set of movies and their genres completely memorized for the occasion.

• he has such a good memory to the weirdest things. like he can state in the exact order your makeup routine, or talk about all the caves and sinkholes in yukatan but ask him how many states there are in america and he’s completely bummed.

• back to what i was saying, cuddling and movie times together.

• he’s the little spoon i will not argue with anyone about this, especially if something happened that day.

• like if rafe pissed him off, some kooks stepped on his toes, his dad had been particularly agitated that day or he was just frustrated. your embrace is what keeps his together. he just loves the feeling of your arms around him, essentially protecting him.

• and the pogues always get a kick out of it when they see you too snuggled in the morning. they even take pictures, a lot of pictures of everything and anything they can.

• their fav times to take pictures is when you both are off guard: like when he’s putting his hat on you, he’s sharing his juul with you, you guys are laying together on the boat or maybe your surfing together in the water.

• he’s surprisingly intimate about everything even though they’re such mundane things for him.

• he expresses his love for you by actions rather than words. for example, he has a guitar (an absolutely beat up one with missing strings and chipped wood, but he says it has more character that way as well as your signature on the back of it)—

• —and just strums it for you absolutely whenever and however your mood is because no matter what its always calming. sometimes he even hums a little tune or starts singing a bit.

• another few ways he depicts his love for you is by shoving his baseball hat on your head (the one that absolutely nobody is allowed to wear) because he doesn’t want you frying in the sun or dying of heatstroke.

• a lot of his tank tops are now yours because they’re so comfortable and you can wear them literally anywhere.

• he shares, only with you but, he shares. his rings are on your fingers, his bandana is around your neck, his boxers are your sleep shorts, and he absolutely eats that shit up.

• he also gets extremely comfortable with you, like even more than john b in a way. example: you could just be chilling, his arm wrapped around your neck and — boom — he’s shoving your face in his armpit and trying to tickle you.

• it gets to the point where the pogues are so used to it and sometimes even they join in because they even like being included in on your affections but would absolutely rather drown than admit it. they love watching their two best friends love grow for each other, and they're happy jj has found sanctuary to love and be with someone freely.

• speaking of love, jj is also like a puppy: praise, reassurance and kisses are the way to his heart and staying there.

• i’m gonna say it, jj has self confidence and love issues. they are not detectable at all but with his mother gone and the way his father treated him, there’s shit buried in his heart that it takes awhile for him to open up about.

• once he does: he cries, and he cried a lot. but after that it was like never letting go again. he trusts you with his whole heart and soul and he knows you won’t take advantage of that.

• the way you both accept each other into each others lives is so important to him no matter where you live, who you are and what your family is like everything counts for him and that just makes you the person who you are.

• dating jj can be complicated and messy and wonderful and passionate and relationships aren’t easy but he would def be worth it <3

#jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x plus size reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank hc #jj maybank headcanon #outerbanks fic #outerbanks smut #outerbanks fanfiction #outer banks

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Late Night Trips (Day 3: Bats)

This is a continuation of Day 2. Read it here

Marinette walks around the Halloween section of the store, giggling into her phone.

“I don’t know why you’re so against it!” She teases, adding a bag of bat window clings to her little basket, despite Jason’s grumbling on the other end of the phone.

“Because the vigilantes are known as the Bats, M. Just feels weird for our windows to be covered in tiny bats.” He grumbles, and she snorts, glad that he can’t see the way her face reddens when he refers to the windows as theirs. Sure, he hadn’t officially moved in, but he stayed at her place more than the manor lately. She loved it.

“Okay, Jay, if it really upsets you that much, I won’t get them.” She promises, taking the bats back out of her basket. She really did think they were cute though, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“We could get ghosts or pumpkins instead.” Jason suggests and she grins, switching the bats out with the ghosts.

“Hmmm, the ghosts have top hats, so I’m definitely sticking with those.” She says. There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Jay?”

“Marinette, are you at the store right now?” He asks, and she can hear the concern in his voice.

“Yeah, but I’m at the little one down the street. I’ll be fine, Jason.” She reassured him. She loved him, she did, but he got way too paranoid about her going out at night sometimes. Sure that was when more Rogues and criminals were active, but she could take care of herself. Which she clearly showed him last weekend when she punched that stupid Scarecrow in the face.

“I- please, M. Just, please be careful.” He says, not lecturing her like he’d half expected.

“I will be, promise. See you when you get home.” She says. He worked nights most of the time, but she was still able to see him since she kind of made her own hours when she was working on commissions. Or, she just stayed up all day and night. It was honestly a coin toss.

“I love you.” He says, and her smile widens.

“Love you too.” She says, hanging up and heading to the registers. She quickly checks out and leaves, pulling her jacket closer as she steps out into the cold night. That was the only thing she didn’t love about Gotham. The cold. Once the sun was down, it was like it was winter, no matter the time of year. Sighing, she continues her walk back to the apartment, careful to make sure she stays aware of her surroundings. Sure, she could fight off a mugger, but she didn’t necessarily want to. She just wanted to get home and half a nice cup of coffee. Or hot chocolate. Something warm. She hums under her breath, almost to the apartment, when the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Immediately, she tenses. She starts to move a little faster, grimacing as she hears the footsteps behind her quicken as well. Of course the streets are empty. She’s the only one stupid enough to actually be out this late. Crap. She yelps in surprise as the person- man, she realizes- that had been following her grabs her wrist and twists her around.

“Come on sweetheart, doncha wanna spend some time with me.” The man says, tugging her close and letting his reeking breath pour over her face. She grimaces.

“No thank you.” She says, trying to tug her wrist away from the man. His eyes narrow and his grip tightens, more than she’d been expecting. He turns them so that they’re just inside the alley instead of on the open street. Oh hell no.

“C’mon babe-” He starts before she cuts him off with a punch in the face. He groans in surprise and stumbles slightly, still not letting go of her wrist. “If that’s how ya wanna be.” He says, his eyes darkening. She huffs and drops her bags, bringing her knee up and kneeing him in just the right place. He doubles over and lets go of her wrist. Now having both hands, she’s able to grab him (he’s too busy groaning in pain) and ram his head into the wall. He crumples almost instantly and she lets out a huff. So maybe Jason was right and she shouldn’t go shopping so late at night. But he didn’t have to know about this, right?

“Are you alright ma’am?” A voice asks. She whirls around, her fists up in defense until she sees who it is. She sighs and relaxes her posture.

“Hello Nightwing. Um, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” She says, glancing at the man on the ground. “Though, I’d feel a bit better if you had something we could tie him up with.”

“Of course. Robin?” He says, and she blinks in surprise as a hero who couldn’t be older than fifteen steps out of the shadows. Obviously she’d done her research on the heroes, but she was still a little taken aback to see a teenager in costume again. She just nods at him in thanks as he pulls out...zip ties? And cuffs the man’s hands behind his back.

“You were quite efficient in taking the man down. We approached just as you got out of his grip.” Robin says, and she smiles awkwardly.

“Yeah, uh, there were villains in Paris when I was a kid so I had to learn some basic self defense.” She says, not telling them everything, but not exactly lying either.

“Still, you know it’s really dangerous to be out this late at night, right? Even for someone who took down Scarecrow as well as you did.” Nightwing says and she flinches back, frowning.

“Uh, sorry, that day is a little fuzzy. Were you there?” She asks. Sure, Red Robin could’ve just told the others, but the look on his face? How he said it? Makes it seem like he’d actually seen the fight.

“No, but we watched the body cam footage from Red Robin.” Nightwing says with a wide smile.

“Mon Dieu.” She mumbles, shaking her head. She could tell Jason that some of the Bats thought she was a good fighter, but then she’d have to admit what happened tonight. And she really didn’t want him to worry any more than he already does.

“We will assist you in getting home once the police arrive to pick up this cretin.” Robin says, and she puffs her cheeks out, trying to figure out a nice way to tell them ‘thanks but no thanks’. If they had to wait around for the police, there was a chance Jason would be home by the time they got there.

“I’m sure I can get home just fine by myself.” She reassures them, and Nightwing frowns.

“Probably, but it would be kinda rude of us to send you along after something like this and not make sure you made it home safe.” He says. She sighs.

“Look, is there any way you can follow from the roofs or something? If you guys escort me home and my boyfriend is there, I’m gonna have to look at him and tell him he’s right and I shouldn’t go to the store late at night and he’s gonna panic and freak out that I could’ve been hurt which is super sweet, but then he’s not gonna be overprotective for a week and that makes it hard on him because then he doesn’t concentrate at work and I know he thinks I don’t notice but every time I get hurt, he comes home from work hurt and I know it’s because he’s distracted and I hate seeing him hurt and-” She rambles, only stopping when Nightwing puts a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise and she winces in apology.

“We’ll trail you, but you should still probably tell him.” He says softly, and she frowns, nodding. This was gonna suck.

---

Marinette waves at the roof of the building across the street before walking into the building and heading up to the apartment. She can hear the low hum of the tv, letting her know Jason is already home. She takes in a deep breath before unlocking the door and walking in.

“Hey M.” Jason calls from the couch, a smile on his face. She smiles back, silently noting that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He was either fighting with his dad again, or something went wrong at work. And now she was about to drop the whole ‘I took down a guy who tried to yank me into an alley’ thing on him. She sets her bags on the table and kicks her shoes off before walking over and sitting on the couch, instantly curling into his side. They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes and she relaxes.

“You okay?” He asks softly, and she sighs, sitting up and looking at him, wringing her hands together.

“So, don’t freak out.” She says, and he frowns. “Um, you were right about the whole shopping at night in Gotham thing.” She says, thankful that he seems to understand immediately.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, eyes scanning her, pausing on her wrist. She frowns. Her wrist was definitely currently hidden by her sleeve, how did he know it was bruised? She sighs and pushes her sleeves up, grinning at him awkwardly.

“Just a little bruise.” She says, and he frowns.

“A little- Marinette, that bruise is all around your wrist. Are you sure it’s not broken?” He asks worriedly.

“I’m sure, I know what broken bones feel like. I’m a clutz, remember?” She teases, smiling softly at him. She breathes a sigh of relief when he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. He shifts so that he’s practically laying on the couch, moving her so that she’s laying on top of him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He mumbles. She rolls her eyes, burying herself into his chest.

“I’m fine, Jay. I won’t go shopping so late next time. Besides, some of the Bats showed up.” She says, giggling at his scoff.

“As if those idiots did anything.” He snarks.

“I mean, Nightwing and Robin both commented on my fighting skills.” She teases, laughing as he reaches up and turns her face to look at him.

“M, Marinette, love of my life, what exactly did Robin say?” He asks and her face heats up at how easily he calls her the love of his life. Did he mean it?

“Uh, something about being efficient in taking the man down?” She says, finding it hard to think with how intense Jason’s stare was. He laughs, a wide smile on his face.

“Ya know, Robin is supposedly the least easily impressed. Apparently he can be a bit of a pain.” He says and she grins before laying back down.

“Well then, at least we know I can take care of myself.” She says, feeling him sigh. He doesn’t disagree though, just kisses the top of her head. Warm and safe, she slowly drifts off to sleep.

---

BONUS

Jason smirks as he walks into the Batcave the next night.

“So Demon Spawn, my girlfriend is an efficient fighter?” He asks. Damian scowls.

“Shut it, Todd. Just because I think she is an efficient fighter does not mean that I believe you are.” He says and Jason snorts. “Don’t laugh Todd, I truly believe that she could knock you on your ass.”

“Language, Little D.” Dick says, walking in with his suit on, but mask off. “He does have a point though. I think she could probably hold her own against any of us, even for a couple minutes.” Jason just grins widely. Oh yeah, his girlfriend was a badass.

***

Taglist: @maribat-october-rarepairs @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess

#maribat #maribat fanfiction #ao3fic #MaribatHalloween21 #jasonette #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat damian wayne #maribat dick grayson #maribat oneshot

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

hawks_littledove.mp3

— You’re an avid listener to NSFW ASMR artist Hawks. It’s just your luck that he’s offered to have phone sex with you.

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pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, slight abuse of power/influence, phone sex, masturbation, degradation, praise, nsfw asmr artist!hawks

word count: 5,018

a/n: my keyboard is broken and i could actually cry. but hey, hawks do be sexy even tho I would never trust him with my life. also LOL this might be a call out to a lot of us, do not be offended or I will cry.

kinktober day 14 main kink: phone sex | kinktober masterlist

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Fantasizing about being in relationships with fictional characters was entirely healthy and normal.

That was something you believed to the core. It was fictional; thus, no one but you were to be hurt at the end of the day. The character, being fake, could never have an opinion because you must be real in order to have an opinion. So when you were between boyfriends, you discovered a new anime, and before you could stop yourself, you fell hard for a character.

It started as a mild obsession.

You had looked up fanart via google images, your heart warming when you saw the plethora of different fanart. The anime itself had been in circulation for a few years now, the manga for much longer, so the content was endless. Then google images wasn’t enough, and you began crossing into Twitter and Tumblr.

The fanart became better, more engrossing, and definitely much more NSFW. And then, one night during your endless rabbit hole down Tumblr after your daily search on Twitter, you stilled when seeing a new type of content.

⇒ grey fullbuster x reader

The obsession grew worse.

So much so that you had followed nearly five hundred self insert writers and artists on Tumblr, and maybe seven hundred artists, meta writers, and thread makers on twitter. But three months into consuming all the content you could find, you came across a new name that made you tilt your head.

Hawks Fierce Wings

It was a name that was being repeated and heavily talked about on both sites. It was an ASMR artist, apparently, and you frowned at the thought. You didn’t have anything against ASMR videos, but you weren’t exactly sure how to handle an anime ASMR artist. Were they cosplaying while making all those weird ASMR sounds? You really didn’t have any idea, but due to the immense boredom of your lazy day in, you decided to hell with it and tried out his most popular video.

It was simply entitled: Hawks is Jealous.

Did you have any idea as to who Hawks was? God, no, you didn’t. But if it was just some random cosplay he was going to do, you didn’t think it was going to matter. So as the only slightly educated ASMR listener, you never truly became invested when it was a thing; you slipped on your earbuds and pressed play.

The introduction screen faded into an illustrated picture of a slightly handsome man, and some calming yet tense music played in the background. You shifted, eyebrows drew as you waited for the ASMR session to begin, and when it did, you were not ready.

“I saw you walking around with that asshole today,” a voice practically growled in your ear, and you froze.

Oh, no.

Oh, no!

For almost an entire hour, you sat glued to your sofa, your fingers digging into your lap as the jealous, spiteful words of this man named Hawks poured bitterly in your ear. His words were a near aggravated assault on you and definitely something you were beyond uncomfortable hearing from a stranger, but there was something about his voice that kept you there. Maybe it was the tenor of his tone or the way there was this sly, cunning scent to his words that he seemed to hide deep within his throat, but there was something that kept you there.

The second the passionate, heated kissing noises and heavy moans began to spill from his lips, you screeched, slamming your laptop closed as your cheeks pounded heavily.

Oh my god?!

It took a bit, but eventually, you were able to finish the audio and quickly figured out why he was an NSFW artist. You had never, ever heard a man eat a pussy fake or real as eagerly or vigorously as he did. Your hands were gripping the pants of your leggings, and your chest heaved.

Oh, motherfucking shit.

Finding out there were almost seventy other videos for you to still experience sent you scrambling for more, and eventually, you had to confess you were obsessed. Despite the anime fandoms you had discovered him for, Hawks seemed to be more famous for the content he created as himself. His real name was unknown by the looks of it, and he was only addressed as Hawks by his audience, something you caught on to quickly. So only after creating a new profile for his Youtube account, you made quick work of liking and commenting on every single of his already published seventy-eight nearly one hour and thirty-minute videos.

Each one was different.

Each one filled with various roadmaps on how Hawks' scenarios would play out for you — the listener. When he used his own persona, he called the listener his little dove or his chicken nugget, sometimes his KFC thigh, or his shish kabob.

You were glad at the very least he didn’t call you by any of those nicknames when pretending to fuck you at a speed only a “porn-is-my-only-education-on-porn” virgin teenage boy. You knew it wasn’t ideal, usually, but for some reason, it just worked. You commented on everything, read his summaries and thoughts on each video. Eventually, when you found yourself on his final, most recent video, you were ready to go a step further.

The Patreon app on your phone seemed jarringly out of place as you opened the app and subscribed yourself to Hawks' highest tiered option for the price of twenty USD.

And when you got your access to his page, you were immersed in more heavier, better content.

It was a goldmine in a sea of fools gold, and you absolutely went insane.

You weren’t sure if you were insane, needy, or just straight-up idiotic for scrolling to the very first Patreon post and indulging in the content Hawks created.

There was a stark difference between the warnings alone between the Youtube videos and the Patreon posts. While the porn was readily accessible on Youtube, the kinkiest thing that ever happened in a video was a slight implication that Hawks had left the listener on a vibrator and fuckmachine as he went to go talk to the visiting neighbors.

It was a slight, tiny zone out and miss a detail, but one you had clung onto like an obsessed psycho and even commented on in your comment on the post. Of course, Hawks hadn’t responded, not that you had ever expected him to because all things considered, a video that was eight months old and hadn’t done that well, to begin with, didn’t seem like anything he would remember: notifications and all.

But Patreon? Oh good, sweet, ravishing Patreon.

The very first video was of the following:

Stepbrother!Hawks fucks Stepsister!Listener in the stairwell during Christmas Dinner.

After praying and swearing to all the deities of the world that you were merely a person with a voice kink for this man and not, in fact, a perverted pseudo-incest worshiper, you clicked on it and began. It was downright sinful.

There were active voices whispered in the background as Hawks laughed about how fucking slutty you were for letting your brother fuck you like this. In the hallway, like a dog, where anyone in your joint family could walk out into. He laughed that you probably wanted it, how your wet ass pussy was greedily sucking him in, so how could you even begin to deny your lust for your brother.

You had to take a break five times during that audio.

Eventually, you do end up catching up.

Each video he had ever posted to your disposal, and most likely due to the different tier levels, you always commented on the videos. Even if it made you feel awkward for lusting over things months old, even if there were no other comments on the videos, which was much more common than you thought, you always commented and liked. It wasn’t anything ever crazy, you had seen the rarest comments bring a whole essay of analysis on why they loved it or the hating words, but you kept it simple.

Just something to keep Hawks spirits high without draining you even further of energy.

A simple: holy shit, that was hot as fucking hell!!!! you never disappoint me!!!

You never expected anything out of it; as a matter of fact, you had merely thought that you were doing the least by merely appreciating his creations when, one night, a few hours after you had gotten home. Your phone chimed with an alert.

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise; you hadn’t realized there was going to be a new release after he had just updated four days ago. Still, you popped in your earbuds and began the audio with a simple title.

i fuk ur stupid lil pus until u cri

He wasn’t precisely putting much effort into his titles these days, but his tags were definitely accurate and entirely explicit in what was to come. And in this newest video, the prominent tag was degradation.

You weren’t entirely into degradation, but still, you did what you had to do because you weren’t turned off by it. With the beginning sounds of the music playing in the background, you warped into the situation Hawks carefully carved.

But, oh?

Your face simmered with heat as Hawks dirty words dripped from the earbuds, the wet, squelching noise of your cunt and throat being fucked like some inanimate object made you soak through your panties as his disparaging words burned against your spine like a hot brand. After the thirty-minute audio was finished. Your body trembling with the aftershocks of an orgasm that had come despite the lack of actual stimulation of your clit, and you panted on your bed.

Opening your phone once again, you quickly liked the new audio and typed out your comment.

listen, i know i always comment about how fucking hot this shit is, but i have /never/ fucking soaked through my panties… you just did that and i expect a full refund for these panties 💦

You pressed send and, without so much of a second thought, continued your night. You had dinner, talked with friends, and ended the night curled back on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a simple sit-com playing on the TV. The familiar sound of the Patreon alert rang in your ear, and you frowned, confused.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up the device and nearly shrieked at the sight of the information the notification that said:

Hawks F.W.: lets see those panties before i refund anything

A chill ran down your spine as you quickly put together the indications of this message, and you smirked, despite your quivering hands.

Me: I have a seven inch dick requirement before seeing any of the goods — yes, that includes my panties

And from that very moment, you began a strange arrangement between you and the NSFW ASMR artist Hawks.

Working was the worst part of your life, you would say.

At work, you would sit in your small 4x4 cubicle, your shelves stacked with plenty of papers and items you needed, not to mention the computer that took up the majority of your desk. You weren’t quite sure what your job here was, you sort of sat at your desk and did meaningless assignments when assigned, but you did nothing for the most part.

Before becoming an active Hawks stan, you would spend your time doing nothing playing video games. You had somehow managed to install a VPN onto your hard drive so that your employers wouldn’t be able to see what was on your screen outside of the home screen. They couldn’t trace what you did all day, but they could care less, given you got all your work completed on time and done in an over exceptional way.

But lately, since you had dropped into this… engrossed whore like relationship with Hawks, things changed.

To be honest, it still shocks you to no end when he tells you that he had always been aware of you. Well, with your consistent, ever appearing comments on his posts and overall enthusiasm for everything he posted, it was hard to not be aware. The mental image of your soaked through panties after a long day at his own work had sent him over the edge, and he finally messaged you.

Through the DM’s in Patreon, the two of you grew to become quite the friends with benefits. He would send you countless personalized audio files because you had quickly confessed to your voice kink and how his voice sent your stomach into hormonal knots. In return, you’d send the picture of an occasional soaked panty, and if he was lucky, an audio clip of your pathetic whines back to his audios.

You couldn’t complain about this arrangement.

But as the number of his patrons doubled, and he wanted to entice his subscribers with paying him even more money, Hawks began to offer a bimonthly personalized five minute audios for his $20 tier. The fans poured into that spot, and Hawks and proudly sent you the new number of adoring fans he was getting. On account of growing platforms such as Tiktok, the number of new listeners he got was nearly exponential, as he currently passed one million followers last week.

The cheeky bastard was also making enough money to stop working his regular work hours anymore. Choosing to transition slowly into his Patreon career while recording.

Hawks, however, seemed to have other ideas for your eventual personalized voice audio.

Hawks had simply asked if, by any chance, you were going to be working tomorrow the night before. Groaning loudly in recognition of your work schedule, you had texted him back that you were going to be working. Snidely including the fact that you weren’t rich like him, you needed the tedious old nine to five job.

Hawks: how utterly boring anyway u can b free around 2?

Me: Eh… probably not. Busy girl w busy schedule, ill be back from lunch so no break Why?

Hawks: well, u knw tht uve been amzing & th bst follower so i wanted 2 give u smthing better then the personalized audio

Me: Oh? Well, what is it?’

Hawks: pick up tmrw n find out

He had changed the subject immediately afterward by dodging all of your questions with ease. So you dropped it, and the two of you resumed a night of flirting. But now, sitting in your small cubicle, your eyes flashing to the clock that read 1:57 p.m., sweat began to build on your palm.

You peered down to your phone as you waited for something, anything from Hawks to show up. The fucker was too cheeky, evasive, and quick for his own good. You felt like pouting as you glared at the phone, waiting for the screen to light up.

And you stilled when finally, at precisely 1:59 p.m., your phone gleamed with light. You couldn’t abandon your computer mouse quicker than you did as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and reading the message from Hawks.

Hawks: do u have earbuds?

Me: Yes?

Hawks: good put them on n pick up

The moment you had read the first message, you were already pulling out your earbuds, synching them up to your phone, and placing them into your ear. But your jaw dropped when, for the first time, the call feature highlighted onto the screen, the time immediately changing to that of 2:00 p.m. The decline or accept button had never looked as daunting as it did right now.

Despite the call trying to go through, you still saw his follow up.

Hawks: if u dont pick up u wont get shit

[Accept]

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as both fear, apprehension, and excitement boiled through your veins, the hammering blood pounding in your ears as you waited for some sort of noise on the opposite side of the line.

“Little dove?” Hawks' voices filled your ears, and despite yourself, you smiled softly. The naturalness of his voice sends warm thumps down your spine.

“Hi, Hawks,” you whisper breathlessly, your head already checking to make sure your neighboring cubicle mates didn’t try to look over the divisions to stare at you. For the most part, the office building was quiet except for the phone calls, the clanking of computer keys, and the monotonous music playing softly on the speaker's head.

“Whatcha doing?” he drawled, and you felt your skin heat up when you heard the all too familiar sound of his shoes hitting the top of his desk, the soft whine of his chair as he leaned back onto it. “Are you really at work?”

“What do you mean, am I really at work?” you squeaked, half horrified at the way the lazy, warm heat of lust was infiltrating your body at the sound of his voice, and the annoyance that he thought you had been lying? “Of course I am; it’s two p.m. on a Wednesday!”

“Ah, so little dove-chan is a raging pervert who engages in phone sex to bypass her long hours at work?” Hawks sighed his tone that of understanding and dismissal. You splutter. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“I do not do… that!” you stammer, your face feeling like hot cinders, your fingers and eyes double-checking to make sure that the audio was going to your earbuds and your earbuds only. You also couldn’t help the way your eyes swept around you, trying to make sure you hadn’t accidentally invited unwanted attention. “I said I was busy!”

“But, you picked up my call?”

“You said, or else!”

“Mmm, okay, I think I see,” Hawks tutted, and although you had never seen what you supposed to be his handsome face, you could imagine a lazy, toothy smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind using your little cubicle to talk you into fucking yourself good for me.”

Your jaw drops.

It hits the desk, and the muffled shriek of utter humiliation is only silenced because you bit onto your tongue like a rabid animal.

“Aw, you sound so excited for me already, little dove. I bet you want to know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you? I just know that I’m going to make you feel so... good…”

“Hawks!” you plea in a hushed whisper, your heart hammering where you sat frozen like a deer in headlights. Sure, you had definitely played his audios before to pass the time, but never before in your existence had you had actual phone sex. This was riskier than just listening to his audios; his audios always had a pattern, a way to escape from the madness of his voice when people were closer than you’d like. But this? No, there was no escape. “I’m at work! I c-can’t!”

“But, fuck, I want you so bad,” Hawks' voice dipped into a gravely tone, his voice just perfectly scratchy enough that your shoulders trembled in unspoken, untouched want. “I want to feel your cunt around my cock, baby, your pussy is so hot and I want to be the fucking lucky bastard that gets to fuck you through your bed.”

“O-Oh my god…”

“I’ve been thinking of what your tits look like,” Hawks continues on, his voice continuing in the style you liked the most. It was raw, heavy, and deep. No character impersonations, just him, pure Hawks. “I hope they bounce the way they do when I imagine you riding me. I want to see you moan when I kiss the underside of your tit, I want to see your face when you realize that you’re my girl, nobody's else's, but mine.”

Heat floods your panties at his words, your shallow breaths making him chuckle on the other end.

“You’d be so lucky to be just mine, wouldn’t you, little dove?” Hawks snaps, his voice demanding a response, and you heave.

You look around, no one is near, and you croak out: “I’d be so lucky.”

“Louder.”

“I’d be so lucky.”

“Mm, there we go,” Hawks laughs, and your ears prickle for any noise that may indicate that someone was listening in. “What? Are you getting nervous that your needy ass will be heard by your coworkers right now? Answer me.”

“Mhmm,” you hum loudly, your cunt pulsing with more incredible heat and your hands shaking with a slight fear of being caught.

“Aww, don’t worry, little dove. I’m sure your boss will understand that you’re my newest fucktoy and will let me continue. Maybe they’ll want to join in?”

You whimper softly, shifting in your seat at that thought. You didn’t really want your boss coming anywhere near you, he was old and gross for one, and nothing could take the place of this beautiful man's voice in your ear right now.

“Oh, was that a no? You don’t want other people fucking you, do you, y/n? I bet you only want to have my cock in your tight little pussy, bet you want to watch the way that greedy little thing sucks me in, begging for my seed. Would you want me to cum deep inside you? You would like that little dove; you’d like to be full of my cum.”

“H-Hawks,” you keen as quietly as you can, your hips shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your heart hammering in your throat. The pressing heat in your cunt is growing, your panties growing with wet slick as Hawks' voice whispers down your ear, filling every empty and void space in your brain until you were having trouble focusing on the very much public spot you were in.

Hawks let out a soft, guttural moan, and you froze, face entirely combusting into an inferno as the familiar slick slapping of his fapping cock filled your ear. Immediately, you forgot everything.

“A-Are you—?!” you splutter, unable to find the words or the energy to come up with a way to ask if he was masturbating right now. Your eyes spun, your mind in a complete haze as soft, raunchy moans spilled from his lips, striking against your nerves and soul with each successive sound.

“I’m only trying to help you out here, dove,” Hawks growled, undoubtedly in effect to a rather loud smack of his fist colliding with his thrusting hip. “You’re the little office slut who picked up a phone call to entice in phone sex. I bet you knew exactly what I was going to do, and your pathetic, needy whore self caved to my instructions.”

Your fingers curled into the armrest of your chair.

“I bet this makes your boring ass job tolerable, the perfect distraction to a shit job, then imagining a few minutes of fucking yourself against my hard cock.”

“That’s not true!”

“No?” Hawks laughed, not believing you any more than you did. “So you wouldn’t hate it if I showed up and fucked you into the wall of your cubicle? You wouldn’t mind if I claimed your sweet-smelling pussy against your desk for everyone to hear? I know you can scream like a bitch in heat. I know that pretty little cunt of yours would milk my cock dry. Oh, I just know you would look so fucking sexy with your back arched, eyes closed, and you begging for hours just to cum. You wouldn’t cum without my permission, right?”

You gasped, heart fluttering, hammering in your chest as you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I need a verbal answer, little dove.”

The heat in your core was blistering, your thighs shaking with your unadulterated lust and need as you ground into the cushion of your chair. All logic and moral long gone as he snarled and moaned your name in your ear, the slick of his fapping cock echoing like a great bell in your ear. You wanted to hear him cum, wanted to listen to the pithering sound of his echoing moans as he spilled the contents of his balls onto his hand — and how you wished it was your womb.

“I won’t cum w-without your permission!” you whispered, your skin shivering with your fear of being caught.

“God, you sound like such a dirty fucking bitch. I bet your pussy is fucking soaked already. Bet you really want to run that slutty embarrassed finger against your clit but don’t want to be caught by your perverted coworkers,” Hawks hissed, his breaths turning into steady, heavy hot pants. You mewl softly, confirming his spoken thoughts, and he huffs out a laugh. “How many fingers do you normally shove up that pretty cunt of yours, little dove?”

“T-Three!” you gasp, your forehead pressing to the cool of your desk, your eyes glazed over and looking at the entrance of your cubicle, fervently wishing that no one tries to check on you as you grind against your stable chair. “O-Only three fit.”

“Fuck, you really do have a tight cunt, don’t you,” Hawks snaps, the wet sounds of his fisting hand around his cock a beautiful melody in your ear that makes you whine at the back of your throat. “Bet you can’t even fit cocks up your cunt without lube, huh. You gotta stay on top, or else you’ll get hurt with how thick and long my cock will be up that baby pussy of yours.”

“H-Hawks!” you grit out, the friction of grinding on the seat no longer working.

“Go to the bathroom, now,” Hawks commands, the small gasps on his voice from his approaching orgasm more than enough ammo for you to do as told.

You sprint to the bathroom, the slick of your cunt hot, and evident to you as you sped to the bathroom. Your phone clenched in your hand as you locked the door behind you, glad the room was empty. Barely managing to get yourself into the stall, the toilet paper placed on the seat as you raised your legs up, already prepared. The skirt you wore was bunched above your ass, and the panties you wore, stretching out around your knees.

“Sounds like you’re ready to start fucking that pussy for me,” Hawks laughs, but there's no humor, just bite. “Put in three fingers, now.”

Without even arguing or caring, three fingers slip into your cunt, and you cry at the feeling of your fingers completely stretching you out. The smell of sex and slick filling your nose as your fingers slick up, fucking your tight cunt as you moan louder and louder for Hawks.

“God, your fucking pussy is so fucking wet, I can hear it from here!” Hawks moans, the frantic sound of his drilling hips gaining speed and momentum.

“I want it to be you!” you moan, your face burning in your humiliation. “I want it to be you fucking my pussy, claiming me in this bathroom. I need you, Hawks, I want your cock so badly!”

“Fuck,” Hawks gasps, something tumbling in the background. “Such sweet words for a fucking dirty ass cumslut,” he growls, and your legs shake, your clit and cunt thrumming with your increasing arousal and pit of tightness in your core.

“HAWKS, FUCK!” you sob as your hips try to start a merciless speed against your fingers, your body trying to match the speed in which Hawks was fucking his own hand.

“Keep screaming my name, whore.” Hawks gasps, his noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder and louder, your eyes crossing in satisfaction. “Screaming my name like the fucking slutty mess you are. All this shit just to get me to fuck you? God, you’re so fucking pathetic y/n. Begging for me, begging for more? I think you’re my favorite little dove ever, gonna make you mine whenever I get to fuck that pussy.”

“Hawks!” you wail his name again, your arms and pussy throbbing with the energy it takes to keep up with his inhumane speeds. Your vision seeing stars as you tremble more and more, your legs slipping from the toilet seat, yet. “I am your whore, your little dove. Please let me come, please! You fuck me so well, fucking hell, please, I needa cum, I needa cum!”

“Cum with me,” he snaps, his voice so deep, so dangerously smooth. It was precisely what you needed, the voice kink you had for his tenor exactly fulfilled entirely with that simple, last command. And just like that, your jaw slackens, head slamming backward, and pleasurable waves crash through you.

Your fingers still rock at your clit, and your vice gripped walls, your toes curling within your shoes as you soundlessly scream. Hawks, on the other end, is practically snarling, voice deep and altogether dangerous as grunt after grunt leaves him, and you can imagine the milk-white cum splattered all over his chest and hand. A beautiful, perfect sight that you wish you could see for yourself.

Exhaustion settles in your bones as you sit on the toilet, still entirely exhausted as you heave for air.

“I think that was the best fucking orgasm I ever had,” you mumble, your eyes closed, not ready to stand up and move. “Thank you.”

“I’m good at what I… at what I do,” Hawks stumbles, husky exhaustion ringing in his own voice. “Now, little dove, finish up work, and I promise there’ll be a surprise waiting for you when you’re done.”

Not entirely agreeing, but not disagreeing with his command to go finish you last… two and a half hours at work, you begrudgingly said goodbye to Hawks before washing your hands and exiting the bathroom.

When five o’clock came, you watched as your phone screen lit up, and your face flushed as you read the DM from Hawks.

Hawks: this is my fav audio now ↳ hawks_littledove.mp3 but you surprised me today, so in case u ever want to have more fun sometime call me 03-9183-2495 ;)

#hawks smut #hawks x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 26 - The Higher Realm

The Higher realm continues. So close to the end!

Master post linked here

Enjoy!

______________________________

Time passed, but it was difficult to tell how much. Time worked so differently in the different realms. How long did we really spend trying to save one lower realm? Minutes? Decades? It felt like no time and forever. Adonis and I traveled to lower realm after lower realm, fixing the stories, stabilizing the world before heading back to the higher realm.

Some lower realms were easy, if a bit annoying, such as the high school dramas. In those I would often play the “average” new girl at a school. I would meet new people, and was supposed to go on to have romance, betrayals and coming of age realizations. I quickly realized that befriending all my supposed romantic leads instead of dating them, reconciling with my rivals instead of humiliating them, and pushing towards success all together was a much more satisfying strategy. Fortunately, graduating valedictorian with a happy and psychologically healthy group of teenagers often stabilized worlds that had been torn apart by half-baked character design or infighting between rivals.

I took calculus so many times that I could recite lessons in my sleep, but at least the worlds were saved. Despite our success, however, Adonis was often frustrated. He had his own vision of how we were to save these realms. His plans almost always involved us dating, making the high school romance “successful”.

I refused.

He had been a lot more likable since our first meeting, and I was able to consider him a close friend and ally… but I felt uncomfortable at the idea of even pretending to have a romantic relationship. It was definitely a more difficult route to stabilize the world without a romance, but I chose it every time. Adonis pouted and complained, but couldn’t argue with success, and I was successful.

Some lower realms were more difficult. In particular, zombie apocalypse stories were my least favorites. The worlds often couldn’t be stabilized until a cure was found or humanity’s survival was assured. This meant that Adonis and I sometimes spent decades within these realms, working to build armies, or teams of scientists. There was hardly ever any running water, which meant showering was few and far between.

My unwashed self was made even filthier by my absolute failure at using anything with range. Bow and arrow, guns… anything that would keep me out of the gore, I couldn’t hit even the largest of monsters. Fortunately I picked up a sword with relative ease, which allowed me to fight… but this also meant I got covered in rotten blood and guts.

I hated zombie worlds the most.

Realm after realm. We worked constantly, spending very little time in between in the higher realms. Adonis would often try to use those moments to push his ideas regarding fate and the higher realm’s story, but as soon as I rejected him, which I did every time, he would simply scowl and pull us into the next lower realm to save.

It was getting old.

“How many lower realms are there?” I asked one evening as we recovered from our latest mission, rubbing my sore shoulder where I had taken a blow in the last sci-fi alien battle. The wounds disappeared with the realm traveling, but my mind still could feel the wound, projecting the pain long after I had left that form behind.

Adonis leaned back in his chair, his grin a little too bitter to be a natural expression. “How many unfinished stories are there? Infinite, Bel. There are infinite lower realms. We will never be able to save them all. Not like this.”

“It’s not like there’s a lot of options.”

“There are options. You just don’t want to hear them.”

“What, this fate you keep talking about?” I sighed, closing my eyes, tired. “ It sounds like a terrible idea.”

“It’s not.” His voice was quiet, but the intensity shown through all the same. “It’s our duty. Everyone’s survival depends on it.”

“But what you’re saying is: we follow along some sort of script…”

“Fate.”

“…fate… here, in the higher realm. And that is somehow supposed to fix the lower realms?”

He chuckled. “You’re oversimplifying it, but pretty much. We follow our fate, and the heroes of the lower realms will find their happiness tied to ours.”

“What if they don’t want that ending? What if they don’t want that happiness?”

“Of course they do! Everyone wants a happily ever after with their destined one.” He snapped. My eyes flickered open to study his enraged expression.

“I don’t.”

“You’re selfish!”

I shrugged. “Am I? If you’re right, we submit to fate here, everyone in the lower realms gets an automatic happy ending… but most of those worlds aren’t breaking because they don’t have a happy ending. They need a wider world, different ideas… and what about the side characters, even the villains… what about their happiness?”

“They don’t matter.”

“Why not?” I raised an eyebrow. “Just because they’re the villains?”

“They’re evil.” He stood up, trying to tower over me. An intimidation tactic, one that might have worked before we’d spent countless years fighting in life-or-death battles together.

“Have you met the heroes and heroines of some of these realms?” I laughed. “They’re not much better. I don’t think these roles are as clear as you would like them to be. And I don’t think you and I having a happy ending together, and forcing a simplistic ‘and they lived happily ever after’ on all the lower realms will actually fix them. In fact…” I stood up, and he stepped back slightly at the danger in my tone. “I bet we would break them all the more. Are you really so foolish as to think that saving a universe of worlds would be so simple?”

“…” Adonis was gritting his teeth, his hands clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. But I didn’t back down. Didn’t step back. I knew he wouldn’t hit me. He wouldn’t dare step out of the role he imagined himself to be in. Wouldn’t dare cross a line that might ruin his chances at the happy ending he seemed to crave so desperately.

“…” The silence stretched on between us. We were at an impasse. He wanted to follow fate. He wanted clearly defined roles and rules to follow. And I?

I wanted freedom.

*** Soul transfer 11% complete. ***

It’s been forever since I last saw those words… I thought it had disappeared. For some reason, I felt a deep sense of relief at the glowing blue sentence. Something within me had frozen during these many trips to the lower realms, but finally it was growing again.

“The next world is waiting.” Adonis spoke up, his tone flat. I noticed an odd shifting of his gaze, a reluctance to meet my own, and felt a sense of unease.

I won’t like this next world. I cracked my knuckles and gave him a thumbs up. Well, no sense running from a challenge.

We left.

______________________________

I woke up in a luxurious canopy bed. Staring up at the fabric , I raised my arms and have a cheer.

“YES! NOT A ZOMBIE WORLD!”

On the downside, the setting appeared to be a more primitive era, medieval at best, which meant no running water, but at least I appeared to be noble or wealthy.

At least if I suffer, I’ll be clean while I do it!

“Princess?” A young woman dressed as a servant entered the room, seeming very confused. “Are you all right? I heard you yelling.”

I smiled brightly at her. “No worries. It was just a nightmare.”

She visibly relaxed. “Even so, you seem in a much better mood, if I may say so.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you haven’t broken a single thing this morning.” She, unfortunately did not seem to be kidding. “I’m so glad you’ve accepted your father’s decision.

I didn’t have my character’s memories yet. I needed to accept the mission first. In the meantime, acting too out of character could destabilize an already poorly functional world.

“I’m still… thinking it over.” I spoke up cautiously.

“It’s not so bad, your highness.” She smiled at me. “Most young girls feel a little uneasy when their father arranges their husband. But you’ll be happy. I just know it.”

Arranged marriage?

“After all, Prince Harold is reported to be a true gentleman, a might warrior, and a handsome young man!” She sighed dreamily. “Any woman would be thrilled for a chance to be his bride.”

“I’m. Sure.” I spoke through gritted teeth, the satin sheets crumpling in my grip. Adonis, when I find you, I’m going to make you regret every life decision you’ve ever made… and the ones you’ve only considered making. What kind of lower realm did you land us in? As I plotted my revenge, the mission screen popped up.

**** NEW WORLD: A Divided Kingdom****

This is a romance fantasy story featuring a prince and a princess from different kingdoms, putting aside their differences to save the world.

“I already don’t like this.” I muttered.

The Princess Alaire of the Yenlar Kingdom was a clever, independent woman, horrified at the idea of an arranged marriage. Prince Harold of the Bestion Kingdom felt differently. He fell in love at first sight and vowed to woo the young maiden. The couple was different in almost every way, and seemed destined to bicker and fight.

“Then how about we don’t get married?”

But fate had other plans…

“Of course it did!”

A terrifying beast threatened to destroy both their kingdoms, and to survive, the political marriage had to go forward. Uniting the kingdoms, and therefore their armed forces, was the only way to save their people.

However, despite the happy ending, the first book was not well received by readers and the trilogy was abandoned due to poor sales. The reason given was that the romance was “forced” and unbelievable.

Your mission is to bring a satisfying end to the story, while making ensuring the survival of both kingdoms.

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION? ****

YES? NO?

“Quick question.” I spoke quietly to the glowing words in front of me. “Do I have to marry the prince to ensure an ending?”

The kingdoms will not unite without the political marriage.

“That wasn’t what I asked. I asked if I HAVE to marry the prince. What if I can save both kingdoms without a political marriage?”

The stability of the world is all that matters.

“No lecture on the necessity of fate?”

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION? ****

YES? NO?

I grinned. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

As the words faded away, I jumped out of bed. My head spun slightly as I accepted the memories from the poor princess of the original story.

She had not been happy.

She had dreams, ambitions. The Kingdom of Yenlar allowed for women to inherit the throne, and as the firstborn she was ready to take over from her father, to rule her nation. She had spent her entire life preparing. Studying law, economics, warfare…

And all of it had meant nothing in the end.

She had begged for a political treaty. One that did not involve marriage. The Kingdom of Bestion had refused to even discuss it. They stated that there was too much distrust between the kingdoms to move forward without some sort of permanent assurance. Even the threat of annihilation from the ancient beast of legend wasn’t enough to have them reconsider. That wasn’t the full story, though.

Later she discovered that Prince Harold had seen her at a party. He had supposedly fallen in love with her at first sight, and became determined to marry her. He had learned of her plans to marry a minor noble, one who would support her position on the throne without causing an imbalance of power within the nobility. He had no chance, as far as she was concerned. The threatened destruction of their people was just the perfect opportunity to force the matter.

She had lost all power. Becoming a figurehead, a beautiful statue beside the true king, Harold. He ruled over both nations with an iron fist, treating her own people more harshly, much to the approval of his staff. She slowly became bitter and deranged, watching the destruction of the people and the nation she loved so dearly.

Beyond the end of the first book, when the realm’s story ended, she had attempted to poison him and failed. Harold had been disappointed, but felt that she still had use as a figurehead. They faked a stroke, and kept her mute and weak with poisons. A lovely doll. A perfect figurehead.

…is this a fantasy or a horror? Sheesh, no wonder the trilogy wasn’t going to sell. I shuddered, still standing awkwardly next to the beautiful bed that had belonged to a lovely young woman.

I will change this story. I spoke silently to the memories, feeling a sense of relief that didn’t belong to me as I did so.

First, let’s try to reason with Adonis. He and I had worked together in multiple realms, side by side. We were friends. We may not see eye to eye when it came to our approach towards fate and the lower realms, but he had never forced me to do something I didn’t want. He had always respected me and backed off when I said no, even if it made him unhappy.

Hopefully this time will be the same. I thought uneasily. Hopefully he will listen.

______________________________

“No.” His tone was gleeful, but his face was calm, towing with a silver goblet rather than meeting my gaze.

“Are you joking?” I leaned forward, keeping a gentle smile on my face to fool the guards and our fathers who sat on the other end of the enormous dining table.

“I’m perfectly serious, Princess Alaire. Our kingdoms face certain doom at the hands of the ancient beast. The only way to survive is to work together. We can only work together if we trust each other. The only way the Kingdom of Bestion will trust the Kingdom of Yenlar is with a marriage alliance. It’s out of my hands.”

I reached forward and took the cup from his hands, forcing him to look at me. “Why are you forcing this, Adonis? You know it didn’t work out so well for the originals.”

“Careful Princess.” His eyes glanced over at the nearby guards. “You don’t want anything to destabilize the situation further, now do you? Better to act as a proper princess should.”

“Answer the question. This plan already failed. Why do you think it will work?”

“Simple.” He leaned forward and plucked the goblet back from my hands. “We’re different. You may not want to admit it, but we have spent lifetimes at each other’s side. Growing up, going to school, facing enemies, fighting together… we could make this work. It would be a wonderful ending.”

“You know what happened to Alaire after the first book.”

“I would never do that to you.”

“But you are.” I growled, wishing I could punch him. “You are trying to make me a beautiful figurehead, just like Harold did to Alaira.”

“We would rule side by side.”

“What use is that promise, if you are already ignoring my wishes and forcing me to do this in the first place?”

He shook his head. “You have to trust me. This is the only way we can defeat the monster, and stabilize this realm. We’ll save this world. Together.” He smiled. “It’s our fate.”

I threw a plate at him, forcing him to fling himself on the floor to avoid injury. Walking out, I ignored my father’s shouts of rage. Picking up a bag I had packed ahead of time, just in case, I changed into some light armor, grabbed a sword, and headed out into the forest.

If I couldn’t win by a political alliance, I was going to find another way to save the world.

I was going monster hunting.

I searched Princess Alaira’s memories of the legends and stories, going out in a northern direction towards the area known as Death Valley.

As I marched onward, my thoughts wandered over the time I had spent since I had woken up in the Higher Realm. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed with Adonis. He might truly think that he was saving the world by insisting on going through with the marriage, but his lack of willingness to even consider other options was frustrating. He was the only person consistently by my side through every one of these worlds, someone I considered a friend, and being unable to rely on him served to make me feel all the lonelier.

My mind briefly touched on the assassin of the first realm, Liam. I had thought with his comments and actions that he had known about my mission… that he might be from the higher realm too. But no matter how much I looked for him, no matter how much I hoped to see him again, I never did.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was someone from the lower realm, and I’ll never have the chance to see him, to thank him.

I felt a sense of despair. How long can I keep doing this? Is this why Adonis preaches following our fate so much? Is he as tired of traveling, tired of the missions and the different lives? Is he just hoping to end all this?

I sighed, keeping moving. I’m not that tired, not tired enough to sacrifice my freedom. Not yet, anyways.

It took several days of traveling. Fortunately from my years of experience in zombie worlds, I was well prepared to survival in the wilderness. At least here the rivers were clean, allowing me to bathe occasionally. Finally I was at the entrance of the valley, staring up at the pillars on either side.

There were ominous words carved deeply into the stone.

Only death lies ahead.

I stared at the words silently for a few moments, and then shrugged.

“Still better than marrying Adonis.”

I moved forward.

______________________________

The valley was dark, a deep fog settled in permanently, apparently unaffected by the weather beyond its borders. Dark twisted purple trees rose all around me, their roots tearing through the earth desperate searching for nutrients. The valley was quiet, suffocating in an unsettling silence. My presence there felt like an intrusion, my instincts screaming at me to run away, to escape.

I kept moving.

There were no other signs of life. But I knew at least one other being lived here, the reason why nothing else dared to.

The Ancient beast.

There were no descriptions of it in the legends. Just that it was deadly, enough to take on entire armies. And that it was terrifying.

I feel like I should have seen something by now, if it was so large. I sighed, sitting on one of the trees, staring up at the mountain ahead of me. Shouldn’t it be easier to find an enormous beast that terrified an entire world?

…

Wait.

I looked up, struggling to see the top of the mountain in front of me.

I’m in a valley…

The mountain moved up and down, with regular motions.

There shouldn’t be a mountain here.

It was breathing.

I drew my sword, inwardly despairing. I had underestimated the sheer scale of the monster. I had thought it would be the size of a house, an elephant. Instead it towered stories above me, unimaginably large.

I was doomed.

There was a rumble as the beast in front of me shifted. I couldn’t tell the shape, just an impression of scales and spikes. Slowly, something lowered down in front of me, stretching forward in all directions, filling my vision. I saw teeth larger than my own body, the white of them contrasting with the dark fog around us. As I prepared myself for my death, an eye opened to stare at me.

It was a beautiful dark blue.

“…”

Suddenly, I felt relief. It was incomprehensible. I was standing in front of an ancient beast, enormous and terrifying, and instead of fear and dread… I felt safe.

I raised a hand, almost despite myself. “Hello there.”

The eye blinked. I comforted myself that it hadn’t eaten me yet.

“I think you look awesome. I’m Princess Alaira from the nearby kingdom of Yenlar. I actually came here to kill you, to protect my people… but now I realize that you could crush me like an ant, and that was a bad plan.”

The eye blinked twice. It seemed more confused than anything.

“I have a much better plan, if you would be willing to listen to me.” I let out a laugh, slightly startled at how… villainous it sounded.

*** Soul transfer 20% complete. ***

The creature let out a sound like thunder. I felt that it was laughing too.

______________________________

The wedding was this morning.

I was surprised as I drew near to see the party going. You would think that after I disappeared, they might have canceled or delayed it. I assumed that Adonis had felt sure that I would agree with him in the end. That I wouldn’t be able to let the world end just because I didn’t want to marry him.

Well too bad, buddy. This princess has a different plan in mind!

I could see him, standing on the elevated stage before two thrones, waiting. I couldn’t see his expression from this distance, but I imagine he was barely hiding his worry. Alaire’s father and Harold’s father were also waiting on the platform, their postures betraying their impatience.

“Let’s get this party started!” I yelled.

ROOOOOOOAAAAAAR!

The ancient beast let out a triumphant roar as he flew closer and lowered his head, letting me jump down onto the platform before landing behind me, a large, threatening mountain of a creature.

“Alaire?” The king called out, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Hello, Father.” I also nodded to Adonis, who stared back.

“What is this?”

“Your daughter is a witch!” The King of Bestion shouted, drawing his ceremonial sword. “She betrayed us!”

“Hold on, father.” Adonis held out his hand, stopping his attack. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

I grinned.

“Nope. It’s exactly what it looks like. I’ve teamed up with the Ancient being. We’re friends now.” I gestured at the monster high above us, who let out a grim chuckle, shaking the ground. “So now I make the rules, got it?”

“…”

“I’ll take everyone’s stunned silence as happy agreement! Now, first rule: Wedding canceled.”

“What?”

“You can’t do this!”

The three other royals on stage shouted simultaneously. I simply pointed again at the enormous creature.

“I can do whatever I want. The big scary monster behind me says so. Next, the kingdom of Bestion will surrender to me, as will the kingdom of Yenlar.”

“You want to rule the world?” Adonis’s gaze was… disappointed. I grinned shamelessly. “Nope. But here’s the thing: Our kingdoms face certain doom at the hands of the ancient beast. The only way to survive is to convince the monster not to kill us. The monster only trusts me. So I have to rule both kingdoms.” I shrugged. “It’s out of my hands.”

I threw his words from earlier back at him, and felt satisfied as he winced in recognition.

“We… surrender.” His words were quiet, defeated.

“You unruly child!” My father tried to shout, but a roar from the monster above us silenced him. He quickly surrendered too. I accepted both surrenders, quickly organizing the meetings to bring our governments together under one rule. Fortunately, the princess’s years of study served me well, guiding me smoothly through the process.

______________________________

I had one more confrontation with Adonis, the night before the coronation. He was escorted to my rooms by guards, saying he had a request. I hesitated briefly, but allowed him in, waving the guards behind the door so we could speak freely.

“What was that?” He shouted as soon as they had left.

I stayed sitting, forcing myself to be calm. “I fixed the story.”

“You ruined everything! Even if it stabilizes this world, it will ruin it in the long run.”

“Says you.”

“Trust me.” He threw up his hands as he paced back and forth. “Everything will go a lot smoother if you STOP CHANGING THE STORY.”

“I thought that was why we were here, though?” I sighed, leaning back in my chair and cleaning my nails with a blade. “To fix the lower realms, to save these worlds? That requires change, right?”

He paused in his movements, glaring at me. “Stop acting stupid. These worlds are broken because they didn’t follow the rules. We have to follow them perfectly.”

“I don’t want to though.” I shuddered. “No offense, but if the story is going to require us to have a romantic relationship, I’m finding an alternate solution.”

“That’s what the story requires, you have your role to play. You know the consequences of not playing the right part.”

I sighed. “No, there’s always different paths to take. You’re a good friend, and I’m glad to have you by my side, but that’s different than love.”

“…”

“You clearly don’t love me either, so why are you making such a fuss about this? As long as we complete what we came here to do, that’s all that matters, right?”

“…”

“Right?”

Adonis stepped closer to me, his atmosphere slightly threatening. “Why are you so different from what you are supposed to be?”

“What are you…?”

“Why can’t you just accept.”

His hand grabbed my wrist, the grip painful.

“your.”

He pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart. His bright blue eyes were blazing with anger as they stared into my own.

“fate.”

Letting me go, he walked away, putting some distance between us, before turning back to face me.

“This lower realm is stabilized. We should return.” His smile was cold. “The next mission is a little different from our previous ones. We’ll talk about it later.”

“…”

“And next time…?” He laughed, a bitter sound. “You’ll play your part whether you want to or not.”

THUD.

The blade in my hand threw through the air, stabbing into the wall inches from his face. I smiled cheerfully as he looked back at me, shocked.

“Try touching me again, and I’ll cut off something you’ll miss. We’ll discuss missions and roles again in the higher realm, but for now?” I rang a bell and guards came in, escorting him out. “I have a coronation to plan.”

______________________________

My coronation was held outside so that the Ancient beast could stand behind me. It seemed cheerful, letting out victorious roars and swaying from side to side. The people cheered as well, seeming a lot happier than I expected them to be. I guess they’re relieved that they won’t be eaten by the giant monster? I wondered idly how I was going to incorporate the creature into the day to day life of a monarch. For an odd reason I had very little doubt that the monster would stick around.

However, all my plans came to nothing. As the crown was placed on my head, bright blue words formed in the air in front of me:

100% complete.

**** You have finished the mission! ****

It was time to go.

At little sad, I looked up at the ancient monster above me. “Thank you, friend for your help. I wish I could stay with you longer.”

A mournful cry echoed through the world. It seemed to understand that I was leaving. Before I could say anything more to reassure it, the world around me shimmered and disappeared.

Only to reveal a furious Adonis standing in front of me.

“Happy now, Your Majesty?” He sneered.

“Oof, someone’s still a little angry that I used an ancient monster conquer the world. Believe it or not, I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. But you know why I did what I did. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”

I walked away, feeling his glare on my back long after I was out of sight.

______________________________

When I woke up, I realized that I couldn't move.

I panicked, struggling to move my arms and legs, only managing to turn my head slightly. Enough to see Adonis’s smug expression as he sat by my bed.

“It’s time for our story to progress, Bel.” His smile was strange, twisted. I couldn’t talk back, I shook my head slightly side to side.

“I’m the hero, you are the heroine. If the relationship between us can’t be advanced by working together, than it must be forged in adversity." He reached down and picked me up, carrying me out of the small cottage I had arranged for myself and into the castle courtyard. Whatever drug he had injected me with was slowly wearing off, and I struggled in his arms, finally able to shout.

“Put me down!”

To my surprise he did, and although I struggled to stay upright, I kept my balance and glared at him.

“What are you planning?”

He sighed quietly. “I’m tired of always being the one to compromise. It’s time for you to make a sacrifice, Bel. I’ve avoided this so far, worried that progressing our story this way would kill you, but it seems that it is our fate that we take this risk. It’s… unfortunate. I do very much hope you don’t die.” He paused, trying to smile at me. “Don’t worry. It’s only temporary. I’ll come and rescue you soon.”

“A sacrifice?” I felt cold, even as I stood in the warm afternoon sun. My thoughts were slow to form, possibly a side effect of the medication. “Why?”

He shrugged. “There’s an order to everything. Rules. Law. They are all that stand between us and pure chaos. No one can ignore them. Not you. Not even me.”

“Then sacrifice yourself, asshole! Why send me?”

He shrugged. “It’s your role to play, not mine. Your fate.”

“Screw fate! I don’t care if you say it’s temporary or not! Friends don’t sacrifice friends!” I was furious, still weak and feeling helpless.

His hand reached out and brushed my cheek, the touch freezing my skin. I wanted to move away but I could still barely move, only managing to glare at him. “Don’t look at me with those eyes. It’s not my fault. If you want to blame anyone, blame the story.”

“Ad…”

“Sorry, you must accept your fate.” I felt a pinch in my arm, the stick of a needle as he injected something into the muscle. Immediately darkness overwhelmed me.

“We all do.”

Everything faded into darkness.

______________________________

When I woke up, I was in a strange world, surrounded by forest. I lay on my back, still feeling weak, fury coursing through my veins.

Adonis and I had worked well together, despite arguing multiple times in the past. But now… any goodwill I had towards him was gone. He had betrayed me. Knocked me out and sent me to somewhere dangerous, somewhere I could be killed, just to follow his precious fate. To get the story he wanted.

“Are you lost?

I looked over at the source of the voice. It was a tall young man with dark hair, wearing grey, non-descript clothing. He kneeled down next to me, and I found myself staring into dark blue eyes.

“Seems a good description for my current situation.” I smiled despite the dizziness. “Nice to meet you, Stranger.”

He grinned, reaching out a hand to help me up. “Call me Liam.”

Liam? Could he be…?

“…Nice to meet you, Liam.” I laughed. “Or should I say: nice to see you again?”

*** Soul transfer 25% complete. ***

#writing #please fix the story #fantasy #fate #next part will be fun #world hopping

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redstoneverdict · 3 years

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Ok so this is inspired by @petrichormeraki hermit tommy au, go check them out they both come up with great stuff.

Tommy has been living with the hermits for almost 2 and a half months now and honestly he can’t remember the last time he felt like he could just let himself breath. The first few weeks were rough, seeing that joe hills found him passed out and a few steps away from death door one day when he was out and about. Tommy didn’t think he would just be running for so long, trying to get as much distance between him and lmanburg as possible. But he should’ve know exustion would catch up to him eventually, especially having just narrowly escaping a group of pillagers.

It took them awhile to even get him to fully wake up again, and even after that he felt too weak to keep on running so grian offered to let him stay in his old hobbit hole. Tommy didn’t want to accept the mans pitty but he still couldn’t even lift up a sword much less build a temporary starter base so he caved in. It only took about another week of relaxation before he was able to fully run around again and took up helping grian around his base and his various projects as a sort of payment for letting him stay in his old base.

Tommy was surprised with how well they got along, but honestly it shouldn’t have been to much of a shock seeing as they both love red and tend to be more of the michivsious type. It probably helped that Grian reminded him so much of his older brother Wilbur, he almost asked one day if the two was related somehow but decided against it. Tommy doesn’t want another connection to the pass he is trying to leave behind.

Currently they where gathering materials for grians barge and had been at it for most of the day, and had started chatting away about various things like best ways to prank people and what is xisuma hideing under his helmet, before falling into a comfortable silence. Tommy used to not be able to stand the silence, having always filled with with whatever comes to mind, but during his exiled, and when he ran away, he started to become more quiet. Why talk when there was no one there to hear you anyway, well anyone that was actually alive and could remember the inside jokes you where attempting to make.

Tommy’s thoughts drift to his brother, Wilbur. He still sort of feels bad for leaving without even telling him, seeing as he was the only one besides dream who actively tried to help him and vist him back in logshire, but honestly he probably would’ve forgotten him too by now, just like every other bad memory. He feels a tap on his shoulder.

“-tommy are you even listening?” Grian ask, takeing a step back after seeing tommy jump in his skin and pull out his sword before realizing it’s just grian.

“Oh sorry” Tommy says sheepishly, “I was just cought in my own thoughts, what is it?” He ask puting his sword away.

“ I said we’ve been working for awhile, how about we take a break and eat something” grian says pointing over to a shady spot in the distance.

Tommy didn’t notice the ache in his arms untill grian mentioned it and agreed, packing up their shoker boxes and flying over there, he still wasn’t quite used to useing elytra but feeling the wind blowing pass him definitely helped ground him after having thought about the past.

The two sat and ate for awhile, laughing at a story about how mumbo really made a his demise bunkers door code 1,2,3,4 and then falling into silence as they ate some more.

“ ya know” grian said inbetween bites of a sandwich he had brought, “ we always say mumbos the youngest around here but I don’t think I ever cought your age” he puts the sandwich down, “ and I’d rather not assume since I look pretty young myself, but how old are you?”

Tommy pauses and think, how old is he? He hadn’t really thought about since leaving. “ Um, what day is it?” He ask.

“ April 13th” Grian replys, looking kinda worried.

“ oh”, Tommy pauses, had it really been that long since he ran away? He shrugs “ I guess I’m 17 now, my birthday was on the 4th”, he says nonchalantly, taking another bite out of his pork chop.

“REALLY?” Grian is shocked, he figured tommy was at least 18 but finding out he was just 16 when joe found him all beaten up and knocking on deaths door steps puts him back a bit. But he can’t really be one to judge seeing how his teenage years where, and he knows that if he had the chance he would’ve ran away from it all a lot sooner then he did. “ wow wish I knew sooner, we could’ve thrown you a party or something” he says giving tommy a playful nudge, but tommy goes still and a look crosses over his face.

“N-no” Tommy says, furrowing his eyebrows and looking away, “no it’s alright, I kinda don’t do parties anymore. The last one I tried to throw, no one even showed up, I mean dream did-“ Tommy whinces, saying his name “but he doesn’t really count”

“No one?” Grian ask, taking note of dreams name, it’s the first time tommy has said someone’s name from his past, and he’s surprised it’s someone he vaguely knows, but he keeps quiet about it for now.

“Nope, not my best friend, not even my own family” Tommy’s voice lowers on the last part, pain written all over his face, before he pushes himself up. “ But now of that really matters now, does it?”. Tommy’s whole demeanor changes as he goes back into his usual self. “ how about we load up your shit head back to the shopping district before it gets to late yeah? I got other things to do besides being your bitch”

Grian knows tommy has been trying to cut back on his swearing, and that he’s just trying to change and get away from the subject as fast as he could, but Grian wasn’t going to push the matter. He knows what it’s like to feel like you’re not wanted by anyone and he knows that tommy will talk about it when he’s ready.

“ hey watch your mouth before I make ya eat a spider eye again” grian gets up “ but yah you’re probably right, it is getting late and I’d rather not lost all my stuff over 3000 blocks out.” He puts his hand on the larger boys shoulder and looks up at him “ you go ahead and take off and I’ll pack up what whatever we might of left”

Tommy looks back at the smaller man, he knows Grian isn’t stupid, but is thankful he is letting it slide for now. “ thanks grian.” He says softly, for once not feeling like he has to make his voice boom in order to be heard

Grian smiles back reassuringly, “ no problem kiddo, now go on get out of here” he says shooing tommy off as he takes flight heading towards the shopping district.

Grian stares at his shrinking figure and thinks. He doesn’t know what has happened to Tommy, but it’s obvious it’s was something painful enough to make him run away into the wilderness at such a young age. Grian picks up their remaining supplies before putting the shoker into in inventory. In any case, was was going to talk to the other hermits and organize a surprise birthday party for Tommy. He may not have any fond memories at the moment but grian would be dammed if he didn’t try to help the boy form new ones. Ones where he knows that he is apreacited.

#AHHHH idk how to tag #hermitcraft #tommyinnit #au #grian #dream smp #??? maybe #I’m so nervous posting this #I hope y’all like it #fan fiction #fan fic #hermit tommy au #hermit!tommy au #hc x dsmp

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spockandawe · 3 years

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Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting.

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned.

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #disk horse #long post/#abuse/#only tangentially #but better safe than sorry i hope

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amazinglyegg · 3 years

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Random headcanons for Paladin Danse because I love him (based on these prompts by @/silentshayshores-2 !)

How do they feel about people shorter / taller than them?

Danse is used to being taller than basically anyone else due to being in power armour 24/7. He's also just very tall (I used to hc him as short but it seems like the general fandom consensus is Tall Danse) so he doesn't mind people shorter than him. Taller than him, however? Catch his fight-or-flight reflex kick in the second he realizes that. He has been trianed to fight people / creatures taller than him, so he's not scared or amything, but it's rare anything other than a supermutant or a deathclaw is taller than him. He'll warm up eventually.

Their sexuality?

Canonically he's multisexual and I agree with that. Demisexual bisexual with no real preference

Preferred weather?

Very sunny days, little to no clouds in the sky. He likes being able to see clearly and the heat never bothered him too much, especially not in compared to rain or snow.

What's their sleeping schedule?

In theory, 11pm to 5am. In reality? Probably more like 2am to 5am, the rest of the hours spent tinkering, reading, or just laying there in the dark staring at the ceiling. Out in the field he takes turns with whoever he's travelling with. Has fallen asleep in his power armour in the past. Scribe Haylen and knight Rhys have a silent agreement not to wake him up when he does

How's their cooking?

He knows cooking well on a survival level. Purifying water, scavenging, making sure food is safe to eat. He can make meals out of basically anything found in the wasteland, from mushrooms to bloatfly to questionable canned meat. He learned this even before he was taught in the Brotherhood, it was the only way he survived on his own for so long before moving to Rivet City. Cooking for taste? Not so much. He IS a fast learner, but he'll always put safety and preserving rations over taste factor, even when you have enough food to spare

What's their sleeping position?

When he's in a sleeping bag or sleeping around others: on his side, legs partially drawn and arm resting under his head/pillow. When he's alone he will fall asleep on his stomach, starfish spread out, probably drooling. Doesn't let anyone see him sleep like that, though.

Who do they go for comfort?

Cutler used to be his number one, and the person he confided most in. Since then, while he definitely has some friends, he's not close enough with anyone to talk to them. Even if he was, he feels as if he needs to be perfect in front of everyone to be seen as a good leader, meaning he'll rarely if ever open up. He's talked to Haylen a few times, but always apologizes after.

Something small that they enjoy?

Standing at the edge of the Prydwen, watching the sun rise. He always wakes up in time for it, and it reminds him of how far he's come, and how lucky he is to be in the Brotherhood

How do they feel about physical contact by others?

He's built high walls and is very closed off in general, making most close interactions with others somewhat awkward. Even things such as pats on the back or bumping into others on the hallways stopped being common since he was ranked to Paladin. Did I mention that he's been a Paladin for ten years? Danse is too touch-starved to know what to do, and ends up silently pushing others away with his awkwardness around the whole thing. He refuses to let himself lean into most gentle touches out of fear of letting his guard down and being seen as weak (see: who do they go for comfort) but if you manage to break down those walls and give him a real, warm hug? Expect him to burst into tears immediately

What is enough to bring them to tears?

See: above. Also, the crushing guilt of feeling as though he failed his team. He'd never dare cry in front of others but in the rare times he's sure he's alone and won't be disturbed he'll let it out, blaming himself and probably getting drunk. Other than that, he has a soft spot for orphans and got teary-eyed reuniting Billy with his parents during the Kid in a Fridge quest

Biggest pet peeve?

Rude people, especially people who talk over him during a conversation. He expects to be listened to when giving orders, so somebody shutting him up by talking over him or blatantly ignoring him in a conversation is a big sign of disrespect.

How well do they take care of themselves?

He never got the chance to have good hygiene until he got to the Brotherhood, meaning while he's completely fine with getting dirty / being unable to get clean / etc., he deeply appreciates personal hygiene when available. Showering, brushing, flossing, sometimes even moisturizing and going all-out. When it comes to mental health or self-care? Not so much. He has a habit of putting other peoples needs above his own, and especially after blind betrayal he becomes a little bit too self-destructive for his own good. He'll easily exhaust himself attempting to prove his own worth via working for hours on end, ignoring sleep, food, and even water until someone steps in and stops him

What's something they like that may be surprising to others?

He really likes children! The easygoing ones are always nice to be around and the closed off / mean ones are a challenge to win their trust. He has a soft spot for most children (especially squires) and is often caught showing them his armour / weapons, or even giving them piggy back rides when he thinks nobody is looking (we all see you, Danse)

Do they consider others family?

The closest thing he's ever had to a family is the Brotherhood, but that's mainly formality rather than actual family. He's been through so much with Recon Team Gladius that he might as well consider them family, but deep down he truly doesn't know what family means. He has nothing to base it off of, and thus he really doesn't consider anyone family.

Any bad habits that they have?

He smokes, but only rarely, and never as a social act. It keeps his hands busy and his mind quiet when he starts to overthink. He also has a habit of giving people the silent treatment when he's mad at them. He'll still do any work he has to do with them, but his conversations will be even more formal (and awkward) than before, and at any slight mention of their arguement he will find an excuse to leave. Give him enough time and he'll muster up the courage to apologize, but it's tiring to wait until then

What's their idea of a perfect vacation?

Danse generally doesn't like regular vacations, since he doesn't like being away from work for that long. Taking the Saturday off to go fishing or something is probably the closest he'll get to a proper vacation, and the most enjoyable for him

Do they get lost easily? Will they ask for directions if they are?

Danse's sense of direction is... alright. Not notably bad, but not amazing. He is good at not acting like he's lost, however. He'll keep calm and collected the entire time and act like he totally meant to take that three day detour in the wrong direction, totally. He will ask civilians for directions when he gets lost, but judges their character harshly before deciding whether he trusts their word.

How well do they accept advice?

Danse doesn't like being criticized, especially by people he's not close to. He's big on standing by all his orders, so comments on his choices make him think the person commenting is questioning his leadership. When it comes to friends or close teammates, he ends up either taking criticism way too harshly, or doing what he does with most comments and ignores it. He'd much rather learn from his mistakes than be called out

How much do they swear?

He isn't particularly against swearing, but it depends on the circumstances. He'll swear often in general (usually terms like "(god)damnit" or "what the hell") but very rarely swears while directing at a person, either talking to them or about them. He'll only curse someone out if he's really angry. He's very lenient on letting others swear

Is there anything they're bad at?

Other than holding a casual conversation? He's fairly bad at anything that takes fine motor skills. He's tried picking up hobbies like drawing or knitting, but he doesn't like working on such a small scale. Also has absolutely horrible handwriting, mostly due to not learning how to read until he was at least a teenager, but that doesn't help his case

What's their morning schedule?

He has a good internal clock that wakes him up early every morning. If he's on the Prydwen he'll exercise, shower, brush his teeth, shave, whatever, and go eat breakfast. If he's on a mission he'll usually skip exercising and clean himself as best as he can and check over his supplies, power armour, and their plan for the day. He likes having the mornings to himself

Any past injuries?

He has plenty of injuries and scars across his entire body. Most notably his eyebrow scar was from a fight with raiders alongside Cutler, several months before they joined the Brotherhood. Cutler was the one who gave him stitches. He has a gunshot wound in his shoulder, deep scars on his thigh from a Yao Guai and permanently messed up knuckles from punching things (people, or inanimate objects). His injuries become fewer and farther between the more he uses his power armour, but that doesn't protect him from everything.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #headcanons #this was fun!! and also took me like 3 days #i refused to write this at any time except for one in the morning so its a mess #i just love danse okay #i need to get my thoughts on him out

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thefirsttree · 3 years

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A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind… I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

#gamedev #indie games #the first tree

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