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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things.

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait.

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows.

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again.

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him.

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia.

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat.

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

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masterwords · 3 years

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Prompt: “Jess, i really want to be happy for you, but you deserve better.”

“Jess, I really want to be happy for you, but you deserve better.” He looked so serious, almost sad. Between them their mugs of coffee steamed, she pressed her fingertips to the ceramic and felt the heat burn into her. Sometimes she imagined that if the coffee was hot enough it might melt her fingerprints – wouldn't that be something? Strange thoughts over coffee at 6am. The way Aaron looked at her, she almost thought he could read her thoughts, was judging them with his usual harshness. Maybe he was.

“Aaron...” she pleaded, as if it might help, as if it would work on him. She'd never gotten her way with him through playing the sympathetic card, still she always tried it – there was a first time for everything.

This was not that time. “I'm sorry, Jess, I just can't...you went out with a man who forgot his wallet after ordering the most expensive thing on the menu and then told you his favorite movie is 'Revenge of the Nerds', there is just no possible way he's good enough for you. You know what Derek would call him?”

“No," she started, scrunching her nose. "But...” He simply shook his head, unwilling to hear further argument. He already had the ammunition he needed for the kill shot. The worst part was, she knew he was right. She hadn't even told him that he had worn bright yellow crocs to dinner, or that he had mentioned she should have worn something lower cut so they could have gotten free drinks, or that his favorite band was The Bloodhound Gang. Really, she didn't know why she was even defending him, it wasn't like she was going to be seeing him again but he had made for an entertaining evening and wasn't that what she was dating for anyway? For fun? He was quirky and definitely an overgrown child, but he'd been lively conversation. She wasn't looking for a husband, she already had all the family and all the real commitment she wanted.

“Why won't you let me set you up with someone? I will never understand why you and Penelope insist on settling for people like this. I know plenty of single people who would actually be worthy of your time.” It was supposed to be a compliment but she furrowed her brow in thought.

“You? Let me guess – Chanel tie, crisp suit, tons of money and no sense of humor? I'll take my chances with the weirdos out here, thanks.”

“Wait...were you just...” he began, raising an eyebrow. She'd just more or less described him and he didn't like the way it sounded coming from her. She just flashed him her wolfish grin and stood up, calling for Jack to hurry up or they'd be late for school. “That was rude,” he muttered and she patted him on the shoulder.

“You'll get over it. Go buy another fancy tie.”

Give me one sentence, I'll give you a little bitty story!

#aaron hotchner #jessica brooks #masterwords one sentence prompts

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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years

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Hitoya deserves love, can i request senario when a fem so is upset because she saw a woman (works with Hitoya in office) clinging to him like a leach and reader, please make it from angst to fluff

I don’t know if the ending counts as fluff, but it’s still a happy ending ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ I hope I can do Hitoya justice as he can be kinda hard to write for, especially with angst, which isn’t my forte as of now (シ_ _)シ This was a fun writing experience though, and I’m happy to get your request!

Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry you had to wait so long for this (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

A new employee at Hitoya’s law firm seemed to take a liking to your boyfriend. It started with a few flirty lines, and nothing more. Hitoya never responded to them, and that was fine. He probably didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. The whole situation was easy to brush it off in the beginning, since you were well aware of how attractive Hitoya was, and that anyone could be under his spell.

The woman in question knew about your relationship with Hitoya too. The two of you weren’t super affectionate in public, especially at work, but she definitely saw the way you lovingly looked at him when he brought you a coffee and some cake during your shift, and the way he softly smiled back at you. After all, she sat right across from you. She would wait a few minutes, tapping her nails on the table, and eventually get up to go to his office. Then, after purposefully leaving the door just open enough for you to see, she would perch on his desk and laugh at every word he said, putting her fingertips to her lips in a faux-shy kind of way. The sight made your heart leap up your throat and thump in your ears.

The worst part was that she was pretty cute, looks wise. If you didn’t know anything about her personality, you would have compared her to the sexy love interest option in an anime. She made office wear look good, and you never saw her look undignified. Sometimes she leaned towards a femme fatale-type. That idea was constantly reinforced every time she placed her hand on Hitoya’s arm, playfully swatting at him when he got grouchy, and batted her eyelashes when she wanted something from him.

If she was doing this to literally any other person in the office – hell, some people there would kill to have this woman dote on them – you would probably find it funny. Her attempts at ‘seducing’ him were bordering on comical.

This whole charade wasn’t private. The office was getting annoyed too. Not by you, of course. The woman was pretty good at her little admin job, so any chance of getting her out of the office relied on her stepping over the line with Hitoya.

Hitoya continued to ignore this woman, but he never shooed her away or told her to stop. There was a tiny voice in the back of your mind, whispering nasty ideas into your head – the possibility that Hitoya was actually enjoying this attention couldn’t be shaken off.

One night, as you were both in bed, you rolled over and asked: “Hitoya, do you love only me?”

He replied, without turning to face you: “Hn? ‘Course, whaddya mean?”

“I just… the new girl at work is kinda clingy with you. Can you tell her to knock it off?”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

You sat up in bed and rested your hands in your lap, hesitant to look at Hitoya. “Wait, so you’re gonna defend her? But she’s clearly into you. She knows we’re a thing and… please just tell her to quit it.”

There was a momentary silence, and in the dark room you could almost see the woman in front of you, doing her typical sly giggle. Maybe she had already won.

“You’re worrying over nothing. Go to sleep, you’re probably stressed and tired. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

But it had been many mornings since this all began. The clock read 9:45pm. It was too late to go out for fresh air now, and you had work in the morning.

“Okay, goodnight.” You laid back down in bed and laid on your side, facing away from your partner.

“Goodnight.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, and waited until you could hear Hitoya’s light snoring before feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. There was a note on your bedside table – Hitoya had gone to work early to prep for a few new prospect hires visiting.

Phew! Maybe that woman wouldn’t have to opportunity to bother him today.

Maybe today would be the start of some normality: with everyone keeping an eye on the visitors, most people wouldn’t be too keen on messing around. As you made some food and coffee, you updated yourself on the work group chat. There wasn’t much of it that concerned you, but seeing people’s elaborate excuses on why they couldn’t come in was amusing. That is, until you saw a message from that woman.

There was a selfie of her in the conference room, with Hitoya in the back, occupied with some papers, with the caption: ‘About to teach some newbies what’s up! Kya ahahaha!’

It was hard not to throw up your breakfast. Getting dressed was a struggle, since you wanted to punch every surface in the room.

They were alone in a room, without you. She could be saying god knows what to him, well aware that you wouldn’t be in for at least another hour.

Rushing to get ready and go to the office was an option, but what good would it do?

All you could picture was Hitoya staring down at you, as you burst through the door, dishevelled from rushing there, chiding you for imagining what you said this woman was doing.

When you came to your senses, you were in the office, bursting through the door, just as you didn’t want to do.

“Hey, Boss?” The receptionist said, looking concerned.

“…Yeah? Where’s Hitoya? And why’d you call me ‘Boss’?”

“You’re basically also our boss too. And I dunno where Boss Boss is but, are you okay? Are you like, super tired?” The receptionist gestured to his clothes, implying that something was wrong with yours.

And there was. Because you were not in your work clothes at all. You had come to the office in a hoodie and sweatpants. In your rush to get ready, you had forgotten about looking presentable.

“Oh shit.”

“Hey, Boss. I know it was an accident, if you slip out and come back soon, I’ll just tell people there was traffic. I got your back.”

“Thanks.” You sighed, thankful that someone was on your side for once.

Right as you turned to leave, a piercing laugh came from the conference room entrance. One that was all too recognisable.

‘Of course she had to see this. Just my luck,’ you thought.

Her heels click-clacked as she came closer.

“Oh sweetie, this is just too much! You think that just because you’re banging the Boss man you can show up in whatever clothes you want? What a pathetic little weirdo…” She looked at the receptionist for agreement but he had turned around in second-hand embarrassment.

You were too miserable to try and act polite to her. You’d had enough. All of that jealously that had been bubbling inside you for what felt like years had finally spilled over.

“Why don’t you keep your nose out of our business for once!? You know we’re in a relationship, so why don’t you just fuck off and leave him alone!? If you’re gonna try and sleep around at least go for single people, you freak!” As you raised your voice, tears started streaming down your face. You didn’t care that it made you look even more of a mess. “The only reason we keep you around here is because you’re good at your job! You belong in hell, you demon!”

No more words could properly express how fed up you were, how much you wanted this woman out of sight. Your hands were clutched tight to your chest, which hurt more by the second. You kept your eyes focused on the floor in fear of her reaction. It wasn’t likely that she’d do a 180 and take pity on you.

Instead, you did a 180 and ran out of the building. You could barely see where you were going, but you knew where you wanted to go.

One turn left, a few crossings straight ahead, a couple of right turns, and you were where you and Hitoya had your first ‘date’: a bench next to a vending machine.

That day, he had planned to take you to a fancy restaurant, but it started raining so hard that you had to take shelter in a convenience store for a while, and ended up missing your reservation. When the sky cleared, Hitoya gave you his jacket to shield you from future showers, and bought a couple of drinks to share. The indirect kiss you shared on that canned coffee gave you the strongest butterflies you’d ever felt.

You wanted to feel that same sunshine on your face as then, and see the same rainbow as then, but the sky was cloudy today. Sitting on the bench with your cheeks resting on your fists, you tried to force your mind back into that honeymoon phase. It all seemed so much simpler then, like nothing could stand between you two. Now everything was dreary. Now it was just you, the pit in your stomach, this convenience store, and passers-by.

Someone was walking a hyper-active dog that tried to jump at you. A lady with a small child asked if you were alright, which was nice. A few teens were out looking to cause trouble, though you didn’t care. A group of kids were meticulously counting their money out loud, and yes, they did have enough money to get a soda and a steamed bun. All of these people, going about their lives, reminded you that even in these times where your world was turning upside down, the rest of the world would go on. Even the guy going on a run was just doing his thing. You didn’t look up, but you could hear him running, then stopping just outside the store.

“There you are.” A familiar deep voice said in-between pants.

Your head snapped up. “Hitoya!?”

Hitoya was there, his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

“I heard what happened from Yamashita, at the front desk. I knew where you’d be. She’s gone. You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

“What?”

“That woman. She’s gone. I kicked her out of the firm. I’m sorry for letting it get to this point.” Hitoya flopped beside you on the bench and took your hands in his. He sounded award, like he was having a conversation that was long overdue. “It was messed up on my end to not say anything. I just figured out that that was worse than doing something. I… You know you’re the only one I have eyes for, you know that? I know I don’t say this romantic sappy stuff a lot, but uh, you’re always what I look forward to seeing, like, you’re really cute right now, even in those clothes. I kinda wanna cuddle you. Hey, let’s take the rest of the day off and go home and do that, yeah?”

You were too stunned to reply with words. It was like a dream come true. That toxic bitch was out of your life, and you didn’t have to see her again. Hitoya was yours, and he was ready to confess – in public, no less – that he really did love you.

After a minute of collecting your thoughts, you replied in a croaky voice: “Yeah, let’s go home. To our home.”

Where no-one could come between you.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hitoya amaguni #hitoya x reader #bad ass temple #reader insert #request #imagine

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lvlyhao · 3 years

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『wayv’s ideal type』

headcanons, WayV

A/N: i love yangyang. send tweet.

today’s theme is... um... none. no braincells for an aesthetic

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE GENDER NEUTRAL AAAA

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡)...?

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i think like 2 swear words and as usual, my tough love for the neos. don’t be offended.

word count: 1.6K

pairing: wayv members x reader (includes kun, ten, winwin, lucas, hendery, xiaojun, yangyang)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Kun

Kun, similarly to Taeil, would most likely fall for someone very mature and responsible. My dude is already the father of 7 children (I'm counting Chenle); the last thing he needs is one more.

Very closely related to that is what I think would be another of his priorities: whoever they are and however they are, they've got to get along with the rest of WayV—but it's even better if NCT as a whole likes them. As much as he'd love his s/o, I can't say that if it ever came down to choosing them or his members, he'd pick his partner. The guys are his family and a BIG part of his work, which takes over most of his life, so there's really no escaping it. Befriend the boys or bye-bye.

Once the boys approve of his crush, I think his interest would grow if they've got many pastimes or hobbies. I mean, c'mon, Kun can fly a plane on the same day as he sings his lungs out on Inkigayo and then goes home to cook some fancy-ass dinner. He doesn't need them to be on his level, though. Small, silly passions are the ones the loves the most. He'd listen to them talk about ANYTHING for like 3 hours straight, even if it's why their favourite type of constrictors are pythons. No, that is totally not about me. Shut up.

Ten

Y'all remember that one WayV live where a fan asks for dating advice? Yes, I'm taking a lot from it. If you've seen it, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that Ten likes honest and straightforward people. He values himself way too much to lose his time with someone who's playing games, making him chase them and things of the sort. It's simple, really. If you like him, great, he'll give you the stars if you ask, but if not, great too, he'll live.

I can see that either he'd get with a person as extra as him or someone on Jaehyun's level of unbothered. Not many options here. You either become his partner in crime and bring hell on Earth with him, or you accept it well. Just don't be judgy or ask him to tone it down. That's the way he is, so why should he, you know?

Speaking of that, AUTHENTICITY, FOLKS. Being authentic is a big deal here. Ten is very true to himself and is always encouraging us to be, as well. Anyone he even considers dating will be nothing short of unique and unapologetically so. Being confident is just so attractive for him, I can't even—and yes, even if they're a bit strange. His partner might be a weirdo, but they're HIS weirdo, and he'll fight anyone that disagrees.

Winwin

I think while other members might fall for someone as bright as the Sun, he'd love a person as calming as the Moon. You know that aesthetic? The gentleness, introspectiveness, wisdom, the tranquillity... yeah, fam. That's it for my boy Winwin.

Allow me to elaborate: all of those traits would make him very comfortable with the thought of being in a relationship. I can see Sicheng as having some trust issues, aside from not being very touchy or loud when it comes to affection. Having that peaceful aura would really help him grow closer to his partner because he knows they'll be patient with him and respect his boundaries.

He wouldn't mind if they're more on the talkative side, but he needs a person that can appreciate silence too. Something I see a lot for him is having loud thoughts that are hard to get rid of. Dating him would mean having nights when he's tired out of his mind and just doesn't have the strength to talk. His partner will have to understand that and stay by his side until his inner world is a bit less chaotic, just holding his hand and letting him take his time. I think allowing him to have his space and peace in the relationship is how he feels loved the most.

Lucas

Yukhei would not mind one bit having a more childish, carefree partner. He's a big baby, c'mon, being around another baby would probably make him the happiest. I also think he meant it when he said he doesn't care about age (that one V-Live from years ago). Younger than him, older than him, my boy doesn't give a fuck. He really just wants someone to be silly with and smile a lot.

Having said that, I really can't see anything pushing him away from getting to know someone. Lucas is very lighthearted and loves people, so I think he'd have his fun getting to know anyone—and tbh, he would be hooked if they're a bit mysterious too. His interest would probably get the best of him, and he wouldn't stop whining about it to the other boys until he learns something about them. Very random, yes, but I can 100% see him complaining to WayV during dinner, LMAO.

One thing he wouldn't enjoy too much? A partner that can't take compliments or doesn't like being spoiled. Yukhei's affection is LOUD, and he really thrives off praise, cute pet names and giving gifts. He'd most likely be heartbroken if he finds out they don't like any of it, almost like they're shutting down his love itself.

Xiaojun

Ah, my dear Dejun. The middle child of WayV. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, just look up "Xiaojun's middle child problems" on YouTube and go from there. If you don't feel like it, lemme break it down to you: he's an angel, but the boys mostly accuse him of everything and anything and will throw him under the bus for fun. It's very entertaining. At this point, my boy doesn't have a fight or flight response; more like fight or fight (shhhh, I'll get into the headcanon now).

I think since he's used to being so defensive around his members, he'd appreciate a person that makes him feel both understood and safe. They'd share similar tastes (mint-choco ice cream, cough cough) and interests, but they'd most likely have a fiercer presence than him. Kind of intimidating, tbh. Very nice. I can definitely see that his partner wouldn't let WayV's chaos get to them and would, undoubtedly, be as much of a savage as the boys are.

He'd probably like it if they (playfully) fight his members and defend him from whatever-the-fuck they're blaming him for atm, so, yes, a bit protective. I think Dejun would simply find it cute and admirable, you know, their braveness. Would 10/10 brag about it when they're alone.

Hendery

Kunhang is the ultimate crackhead, but a sweet one at that. Being a Libra (yes, I'm going there), I think he can actually be very sentimental around the people he trusts the most and needs to feel like he belongs. That leads me to point 1: his partner would also be a crackhead. That's REALLY not up for debate. Kunhang wouldn't even think about dating someone that's not as much of a weirdo as he is.

Point 2: he probably wouldn't like to be with a person that's too vain or superficial, whether that goes towards others or themselves. He's said before he hopes the fans can see him as more than a pretty face, and I can imagine that goes for his s/o too. He'd simply not feel connected to someone who's always dolled up or dressed to impress. Would definitely prefer a more casual style and personality.

I guess point 3 is kinda random, but it makes sense to me, so here we go. Kunhang would really like someone who's just in love with human nature. For him, it's the tiniest things: the way they laugh, how they drink their tea, which side of the bed they'd prefer... it all adds up to a person, and I think he'd feel over the Moon to be with someone who sees the same things as him. Comment on a small habit of his he thinks no one else would notice, and I swear he's yours.

Yangyang

He is a spoiled brat, and I say that with all the love in the world. We've all heard WayV say how he basically tries to exploit them (mainly Hyung-line) at every opportunity he gets, which makes me think Yangyang might be a bit lazy, yes, but also that he'd do great with someone whose love language is acts of service.

Now, I'm not saying he'd tyrannize them or anything of the sort, but things would work very well if that is how his partner expresses their love. They wouldn't mind fetching him a drink, cooking something—or ordering out, if they can't... you know, stuff like that. It would make him feel very validated and cared for. I see that, for him, that's the ultimate type of devotion.

The last thing I can imagine he'd consider is whether they can take his teasing and antics or not. Yangyang's affection is really not shown through super heartfelt, sugar-coated moments; quite the opposite, actually. If he feels happy around someone, his way of showing it is that playful banter, insults and teasing, you know? He really wouldn't know what to do if the person takes everything he says to heart, like—Yangyang.exe has stopped working. So, yeah. A thick skin and elastic heart are a great combo for my boy.

Bonus: he'd lowkey cry if they get super hyped with his work as an artist. PLEASE praise his dancing, rapping, visuals and all. I don't think many people do, and even if he denies it, the compliments make him all fuzzy inside. #appreciateyangyang2021, he's underrated af.

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final notes: head empty, no thoughts, just 90′s love yangyang

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keeroo92 · 3 years

Text

Breaking Point

My SFW contribution to @jackpot-dantezine, where Dante falls apart on the way to confront Urizen.

Word count: 1,909

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The air hung stagnant around him, oppressive and unnaturally warm. Shades of red and brown, grey and a sickening green encroached up the walls. When he called the smell, “hot garbage”, he’d been far too kind. Veins pulsated a stern drumbeat as Dante stepped forward after his two female companions.

“Bet you both I bag the first Queen!” Lady taunted. Trish responded with a cool smirk and a quickened pace, but Dante’s mind was elsewhere.

What if it was Vergil?

Dante had his doubts, despite what the weirdo client told him. What were the chances, right? Vergil’d been gone for years, stuck in hell after their last meeting. Getting back here, let alone in good enough shape to pull off this bullshit, was a longshot.

Still. His brother had a way of popping up and causing trouble.

The first boom of battle ricocheted off the nauseating walls, reminding him where he was and what he still needed to do. He’d better catch up. Thinking about shit wasn’t his style; killing demons was.

Time for a good ol’ fashioned beat down, that’d get him out of this funk.

Dante cracked his neck, hands twitching to grasp the twin handles of his beloved Ebony and Ivory. The staccato thud of his boots mirrored the thudding of his heart, hastening as he got closer to a fight.

He turned a bloody corner just in time to see Trish deal a death blow to a Hell Judecca, its skeletal arms dissolving into ash as she spun to find her next prey. Her signature yellow sparks glowed brightly from her hands, her body dashing across the blood-stained ground to strike a pair of Antenora. Show off.

“That puts me ahead by two, Lady! What, are you taking a nap?” the blonde called.

“Not even close!” Lady replied, firing her bazooka straight down the throat of a Caina.

Dante grinned and picked a target, spinning on his heel as a scythe hunted his flesh. Too easy. He twirled Ebony and shot the ugly bastard in the face behind his back. Why did all demons look like the ass end of a bad burrito, anyway?

Eh, who cared?

His heart lurched. Vergil would. When they were children, Dante’s brother never ran out of questions about the nature of demons. He’d asked everything imaginable, from how they fought to how they multiplied.

Dante tried not to think about that part.

And for every question Vergil asked, their dad had an answer. He’d stop whatever he was doing to explain, smiling proudly all the while. Like Dante wasn’t even there. It used to annoy him, but now the memory only brought bittersweet longing. What he wouldn’t give for them all to be together again…

“Dante, duck!”

Leather snapped as Dante instantly dropped to a crouch. A stream of fire licked his flesh, a Hell Bat above screeching its displeasure at the near miss. Annoying bastard. He never should've let it get so close.

I gotta keep it together, he thought cynically, or the girls will get on my case.

Plus, banter always helped keep his mind from visiting its darker corners.

The man in red summoned a smirk and fired a few rounds, his bullets poking holes in the bulging orange belly overhead. A sound not unlike a whoopee cushion signaled his success. Nice.

“Sayonara, sucker!” he crowed, watching as the bat’s leaking body propelled it into a wall to explode. “Let’s call that one twenty points.”

“No way, lazybones! You don’t get extra for making fart noises,” Lady called with a scowl.

Dante raised his hands in a placating gesture as soot settled to mark the deaths of their foes. He hoped Ver- Urizen sent a few more their way; he needed to warm up before kicking the king’s ass. Maybe he should stretch, just to keep his blood flowing.

Dante sighed and shook his head. He’d never hear the end of it.

It turned out he didn’t need to worry; as the trio progressed, they encountered wave after wave of demons, all vying for fresh blood. Trish and Lady didn’t falter, picking off one after another as Dante did his best to stay on task, but his mind kept drifting back to his brother.

For decades, Dante held only anger at his twin for not being there, for forcing their mother to search for him. To a child, the immature logic made sense. If Vergil hadn’t run off, things would’ve turned out differently. Simple cause and effect.

But time dulled the blade of his rage, and a broader understanding of life took hold. Any number of choices may have changed the outcome of the attack, but obsessing over it wouldn’t change what happened.

None of them had the power to predict the consequences, or to change them. All he could do was keep fighting, and hope that by doing so he spared other families from sharing the fate of his own.

If Dante was being honest, the constant battles tired him. His body didn’t move like it used to, and the first aches of middle age warned him it was time to slow down. He couldn’t chase demons forever, and part of him didn’t want to. It was a lot of work.

It might be time to leave it to someone younger.

Then again, what the fuck else was he going to do all day? The only thing worse than being tired was being bored.

And the thought of retiring while Vergil was still out there somewhere, doing who knew what… it didn’t feel right, as if the balance would shift to the demons and they’d go unchecked. As a descendant of Sparda that gave a shit about humanity, Dante felt a certain responsibility to bear the weight of defending them. It was what his dad would’ve wanted.

What his mother would’ve wanted.

Besides; if he didn’t, then who would? Nero sure as hell wasn’t ready, not yet.

But above all else, if it came to a fight to the death, his brother deserved to go at the hands of his family. Someone who understood what he’d gone through and all that he’d lost. It was Dante’s responsibility, and he damn well wasn’t hiding from it. Not this time.

The thought left a hollow ache in his chest, a bitter sorrow he desperately wished he could ignore. If there was any alternative, any chance of helping his brother instead of ending his life, Dante knew he’d take it. That he had to even consider killing Vergil showed how twisted life could be. It made him want to scream.

“Aw, shit,” Trish said, breaking his rambling thoughts. A quartet of Nobody’s waited in the next clearing, scurrying back and forth like excited cats. Perfect timing - Dante hated these guys.

And he really needed to kill something.

He flew at the demons with a cry of fury, drawing all four to him as he pulled Rebellion out. The girls followed in his wake, but he saw nothing save the nearest mask as his blade struck home. It left a deep crack in the clay, but the prick backed off before he had the time to kill it.

He really hated these guys.

“Lady, finish him!” he cried. The other three were already swarming him. Damnit.

He dodged a stray arm and slashed at another as a blast reached his ears. The grotesque floor shook from the force and Dante roared, unleashing a vicious series of slices at the stumbling Nobody closest to him. It whimpered and tried to back off, but he refused to let it go that easily. Rebellion’s heavy blade sank deep into the creature’s core, splattering hot blood on its fellows and its killer alike. Two down.

Two to go.

There were days he didn’t see the point of it anymore; no matter how many would-be demon kings he took down, there’d always be another, and the peons were even worse. Useless, feral things, their only desire to destroy and kill.

It only added fuel to the fire of his rage. He needed to get closer.

Dante sheathed Rebellion and pulled at the thread of dark energy connecting him to Balrog, summoning the metallic pseudo-armor even as he threw a powerful punch. A rapid kick followed, his feet cracking against the reddish mask of the third nobody. He’d kill it before it fought back.

But a fiery blast on his left hurled him to the side, the last demon cackling as he fell. Years of getting pummeled proved their worth as Dante rolled with the blow, using the momentum to get on his feet a beat later. He grimaced and flipped a finger at the laughing jerk.

“Is that all you got?” he shouted. Who knew if it understood.

It screeched and slammed a limb at him, slashing at his chest. He stepped aside and brought his arms together, crushing the appendage and tugging the beast closer for a solid headbutt. He punched and kicked, again and again. Demon blood splattered his face, each drop like a balm to his wrath. The chaotic battle surrounding him faded away; it was just him and the demon and the sounds of his strikes pulverizing its desecrated body.

“Dante?” Lady called, her voice barely piercing the fog of his anger. He ignored her and punched the Nobody in the face again. “Dante, it’s dead. You can stop hitting it now.”

How many people had this one killed? How many families did its hunger shatter? For all Dante knew, it might be the bastard that killed his mother. He punched it again.

“Dante, come on…” Trish said.

Maybe this was the demon that left nothing but smears of blood on the playground outside. Or the one that tore through a local grocery store, or that small house where he found those god awful husks. Another punch. He didn’t notice his female companions coming to stand beside him.

“Dante, knock it off. We need to keep moving,” Lady said, her palm coming to rest on his shoulder as he pulled back for another punch. Trish mirrored her.

The edges of the creature’s face began dissolving, a fine grey powder all that remained. Dante’s panting breath sent the dust aflutter as he slowly lowered his arm. His jaw ached; had he been gritting his teeth the whole time? Fuck.

Better crack a joke, something to keep it light.

“So, that’s what, four points to me?” Dante said. Both women shot him fierce glares.

“What the fuck, Dante?” Lady began.

He wiped away the blood still clinging to his face and sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Trish chimed in. “You good?”

The red-clad man released the tendril of energy connecting him to Balrog, the blood-stained metal vanishing a beat behind. He didn’t know what to say. His rage still flickered within him, an ever present ember waiting for the right moment to flare into an inferno. It might give him an edge; it might consume him.

Talk about a double-edged sword.

It didn’t matter what was happening in his heart or what it did to him. There was a big ass demon tree growing in his city, ugly bastards swarming the place and who knew what else. It was his job to clean up the mess, no matter who made it.

Dante snorted. He was, in essence, a janitor.

He cracked his neck. It was time to clean. “I’m good.”

#fanfic #my writing #dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante sparda #angst #one-shot

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rehabiliitation · 3 years

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please don't expect this much from me always i have fleeting moments of inspiration (open starter? idk if that’s a thing)

I’ve learned to love sending people to their end.

You have to become complacent with it, or you’ll lose your mind in those death pits. Funny thing is, in becoming complacent with murder, you’re still losing your mind. It’s a bittersweet thing, really. Wanting to live so badly that you learn to kill, you learn to maim, to survive. Even against childhood friends. Something about it takes away the value you may have been able to develop as a child. I can’t remember when it went from survival to a hobby.

Her long hair is tied, a more simple black wrap holding the extra hairs back yet still covering her forehead. Doesn’t matter too much, considering it’s hidden by her autumn cloak. Thick enough to hold in body heat, the hood large enough to hide her hair and the mark on the back of her neck, sleeves ending in the middle of her bicep. Her stature is still small, having not grown a crazy amount since childhood, since her own ‘end.’ I hate it here. It’s loud, and it never changes. Tayuya only ever comes out of her little nest every once and a while, no more than twice a year will she make her way to populated areas. She’s trying to focus on what non-perishables she can scrounge up, right now. The lady at the stand is trying to spark up some meaningless dialogue, some shit about the weather and how it’s supposed to be cold this winter. To which Tayuya only responds in nods or head shakes of disagreement, obviously not too keen on conversation. She’d gather up the things she’d bought, pay the elderly woman, and pack her items into her bag before leaving the stand.

Onto the next one. Even now, years later, she’s imagining how easy it would be to bury these people. Bodies are so fragile, easy to turn to mush. She knew the feeling of your bones turning to shattered glass inside of you, and yet, it didn’t raise her empathy levels. Instead, it made her more inclined to teach others what it felt like. No reason why other than the conditioning. Intrusive thoughts are only intrusive if they make you uncomfortable, right? Tayuya, though. She’d learned to be comfortable with this part of her, losing it is what scared her. Who is she if not violent? What can she do with herself if she’s ‘cured,’ or ‘healed.’ She went back to that holistic worker she’d run into a few years back, “You can’t carry this burden with you always.” But who said it was a burden? This is a filthy world. Without the ability to fight, you’re no more than a worm. Scrounging. Begging. Coming out when it rains as not to drown, only to get stepped on and ruined. What a stupid design. It is not a burden to know how to defend yourself in this whore-for-war world.

“Hey.” Tayuya’s eyes darted up to the new stands keeper, her hands had been wrapped around a jar, some sort of fruit, white knuckled as she ground her jaw. Locking gaze with the tender, he motioned to her, “Are you going to buy that or stand there?” She’d gently set the jar down, inhaling while she attempted to move on, “Girls really don’t know what they want, do they?” His mutters to his employee turned off the peace switch for her. Filthy. Just like she thought. Running her tongue over her cheek, she’d send a good amount of spit flying at his face, as he reeled, she grabbed the front of his shirt to swiftly slam his face into his own supply. Jars may have broke, or his nose, or both. She doesn’t care, she’s leaving. The man, now deemed insignificant by her, yelling profanities in the background in a mix of anger and pain. Nothing more than a maggot. She’s constantly let down by weirdos that speak more than they’re worth. Should’ve killed him. At least he would’ve been quiet. She had to wipe her nose after a moment of walking, noting how it was lightly bitten by the wind at this point. It does seem like it’ll be a cold winter...

#open starter #ic-tayuya

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themountainsays · 3 years

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Needed some fluffy elsanna headcanons so allow me to ramble about that one AU i mentioned ages ago:

Modern AU Oslo. Icest ofc. Anna and Elsa are dating and still living with their parents, because Anna hasn't finished secondary school yet and Elsa refuses to move out without her. This is their last year living with their family and they decide they want to be truthful and open about their relationship, because they know they'll need people they can trust who love them unconditionally once they leave.

It goes better than expected, as in, Agnarr and Iduna aren't shitheads for once and try at least to understand them. They still hope to split them apart but they want to do it with Facts and Logic and Common Sense rather than Child Abuse.

I'm considering having Olaf be the youngest sibling, at age 10 or so, which would make Anna the middle sibling. I don't know how I feel about Anna not being the baby of the family, but I think it would be very interesting to watch Olaf be wary of his sisters after their confession, with Anna and Elsa later trying to regain his trust. How do you explain to your sibling that you're romantically involved with your other sibling while reassuring him that you're not a pervert out to hurt him and that nothing about their family dynamic needs to change?

Speaking of family dynamic: you couldn't tell Anna and Elsa are dating if they put a gun to your head because they act 100% like siblings every time they're not smooching, and even when they are smooching, one will always make an "ew you suck" or "mom loves me more" joke. They act more like siblings than they do in canon, with all the banter and random insults and the ocasional wrestling match (that is, Anna climbing onto Elsa like a koala and Elsa skillfully ignoring her).

Sometimes they do get very soft and they'll cuddle in the couch and braid each other's hair and kiss a lot. Truth is that despite all of the sisterly banter, they're always very gentle and careful with each other. They never touch delicate subjects or hurt each other accidentally, which translates to physical expressions of affection, too. Anna koala-wrestling Elsa is never actual wrestling. She's actually very mindful about not pulling her hair on accident or something. So when they get soft they are soft. Lots of cheesy loving glances and cheek kisses. Sometimes one of their parents will see Elsa cooking in the kitchen with Anna's arms around her waist and go "Aaaw they look cute togeth-- NO. BAD MOM. MUST SPLIT." And come up with an awkward excuse like "I need Anna's help to open a few jars" to separate them for a bit because they can't stand the tooth-rooting fluff.

Kristoff is Elsa's straight friend for once, actually. He and Anna barely know each other from the times he visited on Elsa's birthday. They bond over ice sculptures and stuff. Maybe have an ice sculpture team together. Anna tried to join in back when she was trying to woo her sister but after a few disasters Elsa kicked her out of the project.

Anna is asexual and everyone respects that.

Elsa tries to be as non-romantic towards Anna when their parents are around as to not make them uncomfortable, but Anna goes to the opposite extreme and will kiss her on every chance she has. Agnarr had to tell her more than once to leave her sister alone and finish her dinner before it gets cold.

Iduna got over the whole i.ncest weirdness pretty quickly because true love, right? She was raised by a gust of wind. She's seen weirder stuff. Agnarr is still on the "but they are sisters" phase, and Iduna is like, this is the 21st century Agnarr.

Speaking of Iduna being weird, I like to imagine she's the weirdo of the family. Elsa doesn't hold a candle to her. Sure, Elsa might be in love with her sister and claim to speak to geckos, but Iduna collects potato chips that look like Kurt Cobain and had a phase when she was 15 in which she'd only walk on her hands. She also knows how to start a fire with two carrots.

Agnarr's weirdest hobby is fixing cars or whatever (he's a very mainstream and normie dad). Anna tried to help him once but last time the car caught fire and now she only hangs around as emotional support, bringing Agnarr food and cheering for him whenever he fixes something.

Anna got Olaf into philosophy. They started by reading something easy and simple like Marx or Hegel (Anna studies political science), and now Olaf's whole library is composed of philosophical tomes by european white men with unpronounceable names.

Elsa is the typical kid that grew up reading long book sagas and now only reads gay fanfiction and Twitter threads. Her brain has died. Now she shall proceed to run into fire.

Of course, Elsa is into musical theater. Anna isn't, but she still takes her to plays on their dates whenever she can afford it.

Someone, somehow, at some point found out about Anna and Elsa's relationship, and they posed an important threat for them, and that's when Agnarr stops being a little shit and jumps to defend them by denying any and all accusations and then providing emotional support (you can tell i thought about this in a very abstract way)

Ok ok i actually have this scene in a lot of detail here inside my brain: Iduna is driving Elsa somewhere, Anna decides to accompany them, and they share a kiss before Elsa leaves. As she watches her walk away, she mentions to her mother that she wants to marry her some day (HER SISTER. NOT HER MOTHER). And almost immediately she begins crying, because life isn't fair and she loves her and she only wishes they could be happy together. Iduna hugs her and kisses her hair and tells her it's okay, that she loves them and wants them to be happy and that she's so, so sorry. This is perhaps the first time Iduna fully takes her daughters' side rather than seeing their relationship as an enemy to defeat.

Going grocery shopping with Anna and Elsa is the funniest thing ever because Anna will steal a cart and Elsa always chases her all over the supermarket trying to stop the upcoming disaster. This is why Agnarr never brings them along and why Iduna always does (though she'll claim not to know them if asked).

#elsanna #this is so random guys lmao but i needed the fluff #icest #shipcest #headcanons #modern au #i wrote this while sleep deprived #might delete later if it makes me cringe tomorrow morning

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jeeperso · 3 years

Text

D&D Quotes Without context

Miscellaneous Edition, for those quotable lines from between sessions

"All I wanna do, is fork a giant woman! A giant woman!" "Jonni, I'm pretty sure she is some type of undead, probably a vampire. Are you sure that is a good idea?" "If I don’t get turned into a blueberry it won’t be my worst date." "Okay, but if you have to defend yourself just don't burn the place down for once." "Oh, Nyx. Sweet summer child. I never make promises we both know I won’t even try to keep." "Jonni, if I wake up to my bed surrounded in flames again I'm short-sheeting your next bed every night for at least a month." "I know you're trying to score here, but Lady Dimitrescu's daughters are literally vampires AND bugs. I can overlook one, but as a Paladin, it is my sacred duty to burn this place to the ground and stir the ashes."

"We don't let Marshall make breakfast anymore." "Those waffles are well-fortified." "I'm going to be charitable and call it hardtack." "We can use these waffles as melee weapons." "Well if we need to deflect siege engines they'll be good to have." "This is still carbon based and digestible by human systems without any poisons." "I can't serve this. It'll cause ... death." "Marshal we've been over this. This Pizza has 10% less of a lethal amount of grease." "Plus they signed the waivers when they bought a ticket. It's fine." "And don't forget to push the Cakeon." "Cakeon being slices of cake wrapped in bacon." "The special sauce is a mixture of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, ranch, horseradish, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and anything unfortunate enough to fall into the mixing vat."

"You do have a copy of the legal code I requested in my letter? As landed gentry you should actually have legal avenues to... I'm sorry did you say Burning child?"

"First I'm going to nail a crossbow bolt through your heart. Then I'm going to mount your balls to walls on opposite sides of this chamber." "I need Three Barrels of Butter" "Are you serious? Those Claws could crush an elephant in full plate!" "You're Right!" *Turns to first person* "We might need more than three barrels of butter."

"So Ioun is the patron of poor college kids. that scans "

"its hardtack or a mug of molten cheese-fried... something in a woven mug of bacon. your choice."

"Welp, all this coke ain't gonna snort itself..."

"Right hand me that dress and the bail money. I'll get Jonni." OOC: Well I mean they allow men in the city. Its just no men live in the city. "I stand by my statement. I'm allowed to look pretty every now and then." OOC: And dragons are the most unprejudiced lovers of anyone after bards.

OOC: Well I mean come on, its Ravenloft: saying a place is of death and madness is like making the observation the day ends in y. "Going out. Getting laid." "Jonni, she’s a werewolf." "Going out, forking a werewolf." OOC: Well Lycanthropy isn't usually sexually transmitted. Its just that Mercedes is a biter. OOC: ...I don't have an appropriate response to that.

"You seriously think I’d turn on my friends for a pile of gold?!?" "sigh I’ll show you my tits. "Hot damn, let’s get these murders done!" "No, Jonni, stay good. Besides, there are plenty of other girls who will do that without asking you to murder us." "Hmmmm… this is the moral quandary of my life…" "I’ll give you five bucks." "Scales tipped!" "Phew, I thought I was going to have to cover her next trip to the topless bar." "No, no, I have the bail money right here."

Nyx: So what’s the inside of Jonni’s head like? Edmund (with thousand yard stare): Imagine every ladies only smut magazine you’ve ever heard of going on forever into infinity while everything is on fire. Food was good though.

"It’s cool. They stole it." "And you know this how?" "Magic." “90% of Ravenloft deaths are mysterious vanishings.” "Why does everything come out covered in glitter and … is that …" "Lube. I’ve got a few theories." "Please don’t share them."

OOC: This is a plan that ends with Strahd having fewer brides, his castle is in flames, and he’s lost his cape.

OOC: Our team consists of a horny pyromancer, a gnome who can fillete you in five seconds, an HP lovecraft protagonist with actual magic backing them up, a literal slab of iron with a face, and a guy with a "I went to the eternal city of Ryleth and all I got was PTSD and this lousy T shirt". Gorbash smashing his shield into their face: "Have! You! Considered! Therapy!" OOC: Good news is you guys will no longer be the most conspicuous guys at the masquerade now. Jonni: Challenge accepted! "Nyx, the bounty on stealing his fake mustache is still on."

"Vanilla is the king of flavors. What does it say about society where vanilla is considered just 'regular'?" "That they have a lot of vanilla." Lash: "Don’t you want wishes?" Jonni: "Do I need wishes to get to see you naked?" Lash: "No?" Jonni: "Fuck ‘em." Vesh: "Oh dammit its my arranged fiance." Pit Fiend: "Milady." Vesh: "An extra wish to whoever punches this douchecanoe in the nards." Jonni: "I wish…for Bigby’s clenched fist of nard punching."

Soth: "Oh, gods, why am I on fire and why is Immigrant Song playing?" Jonni: "Take a guess." Hazlik: "Okay, so its a partridge, stuffed inside a chicken, stuffed inside a duck, stuffed inside a turkey, and the whole thing is fried on a stick. Congratulations, that's the most horrible thing I have ever seen, and I once crossbred an elephant and an owl." "I give him the 'itis, and we run like we stole something." OOC: ...weirdly Curse of Strahd has stats for Strahd zombies but not Strahd Skeletons. Or Strahd's skeletal Steed. Strahd once went to a branding seminar hosted by Bane and it changed his life.

"Are we on a high enough floor that if I throw him through the window he'll be killed by the fall?" "Oh, but when I say stuff like that it’s all 'Jonni, murder is wrong.'" "When they say pick your battles they don't mean to pick all of them. That's too many battles Jonni. Put some back." OOC: He's technically already got a symbiote. OOC: They can get married. Gorbash: "I'm increasing the rent." Venom: "Can I keep the pool table?" Gorbash: "I'm not a monster." Giant Brain: "Jonni… I have summoned you here for… WHY AM I ALREADY ON FIRE! PUT ME OUT! PUT ME OUT!"

"Hello We're the party-crashers. This is Jonni, she's here to steal your women and burn your shit down. That's Nyx, she's going to repatriate certain items from the premise. Marshal over there, is here to studiously ignore our shenanigans. This is the New Guy. He seems pretty chill. I'm Gorbash... and I have been distracting you."

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly. Jonni: "Hold up. Trying to sex a spider." Nyx: (throws her hands up) And then Jonni wakes up with a spider venom hangover webbed to a wall waiting to be eaten. Jonni: "Eh, I’ve had worse one night stands. I’m not a fucking blueberry." OOC 1: Hey, where does your weed elf grow [her] crops? OOC 2: She probably just grows them in the room she hasn’t paid rent on. OOC 3: Because I was also considering a circle of spores druid tortle. OOC 2: We could be partners! We could turn this into road to el dorado staring Cheech and Chong. OOC: Wait, I just realized five people are hanging out in a pirate bar, and none of us are rogues. We are gonna need someone to get thieves tools. OOC: We have a barbarian with a big stick.

"Are we Foxhound now? Blunderbuss Octopus." OOC1: You want to put the stoner in charge of food. OOC2: Eyup. OOC1: I see no way this can go wrong! OOC3: We need the four basic food groups. Beans, Bacon, Whisky, and Lard. “We pray to Almighty Darkseid! Give us a sign! Thumbs up, for the triumph of the human spirit! Thumbs down to begin the everlasting reign of darkness!” “Where did you find this guy?” “Me? I thought you hired him.” OOC: Yup, nature, arcana, history, investigation and religon at +6. MJ got baked and watched the Discovery Orb a lot. Tordek: "But we have a cleric, Jozan, over there." Strahd: *sigh* Snaps fingers, and suddenly one of Strahd's brides sucks Jozan out the window, cue screaming. "Oh look, you suddenly have an opening, how fortunate." Tordek: "We also have a druid...." Vadania: "SHUT UP, TORDEK!" Edmund: "I think the first order of business may be to discuss your Human Resources strategy..." Strahd: "I have a guy for that too."

youtube

"When someone as smart as him talks with himself, it's not crazy...They call it monologing." "I thought it was soliloquy?" "No, soliloquy is when you're talk at someone else when your talking to yourself." "Most people would run from a demon, you run towards it to study it." Professor: "THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING! A FROGHEMOTH, AND RIGHT UP CLOSE, IT WILL BE AMAZING TO SEE THIS PERFECT KILLING MACHINE IN ACTION." OOC: Also note the Professor is Lawful Good, Archie is Chaotic Good, so collectively they balance out to Neutral good. OOC: That's good. "The incinerations will continue until morale improves!" “You never incinerate the women!” “Because I’m fucking them!” “I… was not expecting you to be so honest about that…”

"You got what you wanted....but you lost what you had...." "Yes, I'm familiar with how capitalism works."

OOC: Dragons are like, “That’s Krandor the shiney. He only fucks other dragons. Weirdo.”

Gorbash: "D'awww, so tiny... perfect size... FOR PUNTING!" *boots tiny mind-flayer into the horizon*

"Dracula hasn't been spotted in almost recently. Whats he gonna do, destroy all we know and love like he definitely can?" "... my god you people are too stupid to live." "What are you doing in my house?" Gorbash: "...well Edmund has been reading your books, I've been sorting through your armory, Nyx and Irost has been going through your other shinies, Marshal has been cleaving anything monstrous that gets too close, and Jonni has been lighting things on fire to stave off boredom." Gorbash: "Okay Marshal, Jonni. Rock, paper, scissors over who gets [to kill] the bishop."

Jonni: "Did you really think this would make up for what you did?" Nima: "I… killed everyone you grew up with." Jonni: "Yeah, and I’m still not forgiving you for what you did to Eddie." Nima: "I am missing some key context here…" Nima: "Also I committed identity theft on you by having my new undead army tell everyone you are running the show." Jonni: "Oh, no. You’ve fooled the boar tribe. Who still haven’t figured out shitting in a hole." Nima: "Yeah I noticed that. I ruined two pairs of shoes attacking their camps."

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft #castlevania #resident evil village #ooc

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madamebaggio · 4 years

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A ROMANTIC CRISIS - Modern JonSa

***

Summary: What do you do when you have a crush on your brother's best friend?

And what if he's also your friend?

What if he freaking bites your lip after giving you a cupcake?

Sansa Stark is panicking and it's all Jon Snow's fault.

***

Notes: Prequel to “A Family Crisis”. One shot, can be found here as well.

***

Sansa Stark had been a very girly little girl. She wanted to be a princess; she loved unicorns and fairies, cupcakes and rainbows. She wore pink and danced ballet and baked cookies.

Catelyn was beside herself with such an adorable daughter and Ned was a proud dad, who called his daughter “princess” every night at bedtime, before kissing her forehead.

As Sansa started to grow she kept the whole girly thing in her life. After she passed the phase in which she thought boys were gross, she started dreaming about prince charming, a spring wedding and happily ever after.

She had a list of attributes for the perfect boyfriend and she knew what type of guy she wanted. Sansa imagined a million times how it would be to find this boy, dreamed of sunset kisses, rainy kisses and of everything sweet and gentle.

Then… Life happened.

For such a romantic Sansa had the worst taste in men. It was bloody ridiculous.

First, there was Joffrey, her first boyfriend, back in senior school. He was everything she’d wanted back then: handsome, rich, well educated; he was like a prince.

Only… He wasn’t.

Joffrey was a piece of shit. Unfortunately it took too long for Sansa to see what everybody else could see. It actually took him slapping her in front of his friends for her to understand. She had forgiven his cruel words, the way he spoke about her family –even though she shouldn’t have – and how he tried to mold her to his taste.

The slap she couldn’t forgive.

So it was goodbye, Joffrey.

She had a brief thing with Willas Tryel, Margaery’s brother, but it never went very far. She’d also rather not talk about that creep Petyr Baelish, who was her teacher on her last year and tried to manipulate her.

Then she went to college and fell head first for another piece of shit: Harry Hardying.

Harry was different from Joffrey, that’s for sure. He wasn’t deliberately cruel, he was a sexist pig, that’s it. He wanted her to be by his side whenever he “needed” her, being pretty, or having sex; and when he wanted to be alone, she had to be a good girl and wait for him at home.

After Harry –and a frightening encounter with Ramsay Bolton, the fucking psycho –Sansa had sworn off guys and this whole romance bullshit.

No more love stories, no more sunset kisses and no more fucking clichés.

God, she hated clichés.

And what was she right now?

A fucking cliché!

Why? Because she had gone ahead and fell in love with her brother’s best friend.

God, this was ridiculous.

Why???

Actually, she did know why, and –in her defense- it wasn’t like she had a long time crush on the guy. Those stupid feelings were brand new.

As opposed to her siblings Sansa had never been particularly close to Jon Snow. They all saw him as a brother and she only saw him as Robb’s best friend.

She wasn’t really mean to him, just indifferent. Jon was a bit of weirdo, always brooding, looking like someone had kicked his puppy or like he needed to be fed a sandwich.

Yes, she could admit that she had admired his form in school, but that was only because Robb had all but forced him to join the rugby team during their years at Senior School and he had started to get a pretty great shape. However, this was a platonic admiration. He looked good, she acknowledged that.

So, she didn’t have a crush on him during senior school and she didn’t get jealous over whoever he dated at the time.

Jon was Jon and that was all that Sansa saw.

Curiously, it was Harry who changed that.

She was home for Christmas when she saw a picture that made her stomach turn. Harry was at some party with two girls sitting on his lap; the subtitle to the picture said, “Enjoying being a single man.”

Most his friends had given “likes” to it, laughing that his “shackles” had been removed.

Sansa couldn’t believe that he was doing that; it was downright disrespectful, almost cruel. If Harry didn’t want to date anymore he could have just broken up with her.

She called him, decided to get an explanation. Harry made himself the victim as he called her crazy, controlling and paranoid, he said she didn’t trust him and was chocking him, and that there was nothing wrong with the picture.

Sansa had thrown her phone across the room, hidden her face in the pillow and cried. That was how Jon found her, 30 minutes later.

Poor guy. He had only gone there to call her for dinner –he was also staying there –but he sat down and listened to her until Arya came looking for them.

They became friends after that.

Jon was so fucking caring and generous. He was a great listener and his advice was amazingly insightful.

Slowly they started to get closer and closer: friends, drinking buddies, shopping companions –poor Jon, he was a true hero.

Cue in an inappropriate crush.

Sansa felt like screaming.

She tried to fight it, she really did. She was sure that Jon saw her only as an annoying little sister.

She was being ridiculous. This was ridiculous.

“You are ridiculous.” Margaery informed her, rolling her beautiful eyes. “No straight guy goes shopping with a woman if he doesn’t have every intention of fucking her.”

“Jon isn’t like that!” Sansa defended automatically.

Margaery snickered. “Keep telling yourself that.” She put her sunglasses back on. “Just seduce the man already. You’ll see I’m right then.”

The thing was, even though Sansa liked this idea, she had no idea of how to do it. Margaery had some ideas, but Sansa refused to dress something ridiculously short in front of him or make him jealous.

She wasn’t 15, for fuck’s sake.

She was going to be mature about this and maturely pretend that she felt nothing until it passed.

It was a very adult decision.

It was! It was a solid plan and she had every intention of sticking to it.

If it failed completely it was Jon’s fault and nobody else’s!

Lord, talk about embarrassing.

She had just finished the last test of that year at the University and was considering spending the whole day under her blankets when her doorbell rang.

Sansa considered staying right where she was, but years of being the polite and well-mannered girl couldn’t be ignored. She got up from the bed, still in her pajamas and half walked, half stumbled to the door.

When she pulled it open she had not expected to find Jon on the other side, but he was there anyway.

Sansa wished she had the strength to close the door on his face –his ridiculously handsome face –and run back to hide under her covers. However, this was Jon Snow, wearing jeans, a leather jacket, a freaking wool scarf, with his head a mess of dark curls and a smile on his lips.

What sane woman would close the door?

“Hey.” She smiled at him.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” Jon asked embarrassed.

“No.” She replied quickly. “I was just being lazy.”

“You have the right to be lazy sometimes.” He smiled at her.

Sansa finally recovered her senses enough to realize they were still standing by her door. “Come in.”

Jon entered her apartment and she noticed the pink box in his hand.

“Are those…”

“Ridiculously expensive cupcakes?” Jon finished for her. “Yes, I bought them for you. I figured you deserved them, since you finished your tests.”

He offered her the box and Sansa almost cried at his thoughtfulness. Why did he have to be so amazing?

She went to sit on her couch, while Jon left his jacket and scarf on the hooks by the door. She opened the lid and saw four heavily frosted and decorated cupcakes.

“These are really great, Jon.” She giggled. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.” He sat by her. “If diabetes has a face… That’s it.” He indicated the pink cupcake she selected.

She showed him her tongue. “More for me.”

God, those cupcakes were overpriced, but they were amazing.

Jon started chuckling and Sansa turned to him confused. “What?”

“You have frosting all over your face.” He informed, a fond smile on his face.

Sansa felt her whole face getting red. “Oh my god! Where?” That was what she got for trying to bite the whole thing.

“Here. Let me help you.” Jon stretched his arm and brushed his thumb against the tip of her nose.

Sansa was still feeling pretty embarrassed –what was she? A child? –but those feelings took a turn when Jon brought his thumb to his mouth.

Sansa was almost certain she had an orgasm.

Jon was looking at her in a way she couldn’t explain. It was… Different. It was like he was seeing her for the very first time. He stretched his arm again, but this time he was closer than before and Sansa didn’t remember moving at all.

His thumb brushed her chin and he once again brought it to his mouth.

“Done?” She asked breathless.

“Just a bit more.” Was she crazy or had his voice gone all husky?

Okay, there were getting closer somehow and Sansa had no idea of how, because, this time, when Jon reached for her he barely had to stretch his arm. His thumb grazed the curve of her lower lip ridiculously slow.

After everything that had happened to her, Sansa had started to believe that whole sparks and fireworks thing was a lie. But the way this simple touch radiated through her body…

Time must be working slower than normal, because Jon’s thumb hadn’t even reached the middle of her lip when Sansa decided to say something. “Stop stealing my frosting.”

Stop stealing her frost? STOP STEALING HER FROST? Oh Lord, she was pathetic. Who said things like that?

She did apparently.

“No.” Jon said simply. “It’s sweeter than I thought. Now I want a bite.” He spoke the whole time looking at her lips.

Sansa wasn’t sure when he moved. She just knew that one moment they weren’t kissing and the next they were.

Not exactly kissing. Actually it was way hotter than that. Jon had bitten –bitten –her lower lip and sucked it gently and Sansa felt it all the way down to her toes.

She forgot how to breathe and she was pretty sure her heart forgot how to beat for a second.

Jon let go of her lip and Sansa… Well, she jumped on him. Like… Literally.

She gave him no warning, or time to brace himself. She just put her arms around his neck and kissed the hell out of him.

In her defense, he did start it with the whole lip-biting thing, and her reaction was completely justified.

At least she tried to see that way later, when she felt so absolutely humiliated by the way she threw herself at him.

In fact, it was so strong –was she that desperate? – that he fell on his back, against the couch’s arm, and she was sprawled on top of him. She kissed him, her mouth opened over his, her teeth tugging at his lips.

Their position was very uncomfortable, but she didn’t even think of stopping; not when he was kissing her back, his hands traveling up and down her back, never going too low.

Then she did the most stupid thing ever: she stopped. She paused the kiss, just for a second, just to catch her breath, but Jon had opened her eyes, and so had she.

It was like being dosed with a full bucket of icy water.

She could see the moment he realized exactly what they were doing, his expression going quickly from shock to panic.

Sansa scrambled off him to her feet so fast she almost fell. Jon also got up quickly, looking like he had no idea of what he should do that moment.

So, he made it worse by speaking.

“Sansa, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Well, that was just great. He regretted kissing her, seconds after doing it. All she could think about was how his lips looked swollen and pink from the kissing, how she could feel her face sensitive from where his beard had scratched hers and he’d said sorry.

This was terrible.

“It’s okay.” She said, her voice tremulous. “I just remembered I have some things to do…”

She just wanted him to go, that was all, because this was awkward and embarrassing.

“Yes, of course.” Jon jumped at her words and she thought she couldn’t hurt worse than she did, but she was wrong. “I’ll just…” He pointed at the door.

He was so obviously shaken and uncomfortable with the whole thing that Sansa couldn’t even begrudge the fact that he wanted to leave this fast. She kind of wanted him gone as well.

“Yeah, sure. Call me later.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I will.”

She didn’t think he would, but she smiled at him anyway and watched him go so fast, he actually left his scarf behind.

Once the door closed behind him, Sansa fell on the couch. She noted absentmindedly that she had sat on the forgotten cupcake.

This day really sucked.

XxX

Jon Snow was the worst friend ever.

He truly was.

Not only to Sansa, but also to Robb and the whole family. You don’t lust after your best friend’s little sister, even though it wasn’t just lust, and you sure as fuck didn’t kiss her like that.

He had bitten her lip!

Sansa must have thought he was some kind of pervert or something. This was such a mess.

He should have kept his distance. The moment he realized he was feeling differently towards Sansa he should have stayed away.

Theon used to say that every boy (or man) at some point had had a crush on Sansa Stark. Theon himself had no shame in admitting to anyone –Robb included –that he had a serious crush on the oldest Stark girl when she was around 15.

Robb would bark at his friend to shut up and proclaim Sansa too smart to ever fall for Theon’s tricks.

However, Jon knew that Theon was right. Jon had had a crush on Sansa too, when she was 17.

He never opened his mouth about it to anyone –much less Robb. He felt silly for thinking about her at all, because Sansa was going out with Joffrey Baratheon then and he was a rich boy from an influential family. Jon was aware that Sansa barely knew he existed outside of being Robb’s best friend.

Crushes are crushes and eventually they go away, just like that.

Now… He wasn’t so sure if his crush on her had truly faded at the time or just remained asleep until this moment.

He never expected them to become friends, much less after so many years of knowing each other, but he loved it. Sansa was crazy smart, funny and charming.

She was the whole package.

“Oy, why are you brooding so much, Snow?” Tormund demanded.

Jon sighed. “Nothing.”

Edd and Davos traded looks, but it was the older man that spoke. “Come on, Jon. You’re even quieter than usual.”

Jon had studied to be a civil engineer and he was currently working on a construction site with those men. They were all good men and they’d become quick friends.

Which made them very nosy.

“I did something stupid.” He admitted.

“You?” Edd asked incredulous. “I find that hard to believe.”

“I kissed my best friend’s sister.” He informed them.

Edd made a face. “Big brother is overprotective?”

“A lot.” Jon sighed. “And I understand it, Sansa is…” He sighed again.

“Wow.” Tormund looked amused. “You got it bad, Snow.”

“Shut up.” Jon grumbled.

“Right… But what happened exactly?” Davos wanted to know.

Jon gave a simple explanation of the day before, editing the most explicit details –like the part where he bit her.

“I don’t see the problem here.” Tormund declared. “She kissed you back.”

Jon opened his mouth to deny it, but then, for the first time, he allowed himself to think about it. He had spent the whole day martyring himself and never considered that.

She had kissed him back.

Sansa had kissed him.

“Oh.”

The three other man traded looks again. “You just realized that, didn’t you?” Edd asked.

“I… I guess so.”

Tormund rolled his eyes so hard that Jon worried they were going to fall off. “What’s wrong with you, boy? Girl kisses you, you kiss her back, and –like a gentleman –carry her to her room to fuck her.”

“Hey.” Jon’s look was full of warning.

Tormund just snorted. “Stop being a pussy, Snow.”

“Robb’s going to kill me.” Jon predicted.

“His sister is a big girl, Jon.” Davos said patiently. “I’m sure she can make her own choices.”

“But what if…”

“Snow!” Edd barked. “Stop stalling. Call the girl!”

XxX

“I’m so stupid, Marge. Why did I do something so stupid?”

Margaery rolled her eyes. She let Sansa vent for another minute as she watched the girl in front of her paint her nails. She really liked this shade of red.

“Are you done?” She asked Sansa.

“What do I do?” Sansa wanted to know.

Margaery rolled her eyes again, happy that her friend couldn’t see her, since she was on the other side of the line.

Mary, the girl doing her nails, gave Marge a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck him, I hope.”

“MARGAERY!”

“Sansa, he bit you.” Margaery reminded her. “Do you have any idea how hot that sounds?”

“But…”

“Sansa Stark, you either call that boy, tell him you want to fuck him, marry him –whatever –or I swear I gonna lock you two in a room and only let you out after you fucked.”

There was a prolonged silence from the other side, while Mary looked pretty impressed by Margaery’s threat.

“Sansa darling, are you still there?” Margaery asked.

“Yeah.” It was weak, but it’d do.

“Great. Hang up, call Jon. Get laid.”

“Ok…”

Margaery was feeling pretty satisfied with herself right now.

XxX

“Jon.”

“Sansa.”

Silence from both sides.

“Is this a good moment to talk?”

“Yes, I just got home.”

“Good.” Silence. “So…”

“I think we need to talk, Jon.”

“You’re right. Can we… Let’s have dinner.”

“Tonight?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Ok… Are we… Are we ok, Jon?”

“Of course! We just… I really think we should talk.”

“You’re right.”

Silence again.

“So… Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“Wanna come over?”

“Better if you come here. If I go to your house we’ll eat pizza again.”

“What’s wrong with pizza?”

“No pizza in the middle of the week, Jon. That’s the rule, remember?”

“How can I forget? Your place then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you, Sans.”

XxX

Sansa was in total control of herself. This wasn’t different from all the other times Jon had come over to have dinner with her.

They’d done it a thousand times.

They had never kissed before, but dinner, sure.

Sansa had taken a serious decision: –a very serious one –they needed to talk about it. It’d be terribly awkward, probably a bit humiliating, but it’d be fine in the end. Jon was a nice guy, so he’d never make her feel bad about something like that.

She just wanted to talk about it because she was scared that –if they didn’t –they’d grow apart. She preferred a thousand awkward conversations than losing Jon’s friendship.

Yes, she had heard what Margaery had said, but… She was still worried.

Sure, Jon had bitten her first –she was never getting over that –but he was the one that said sorry and that he shouldn’t have done it; so she was confused.

She wanted to believe that Jon didn’t see her as Robb’s little sister, but it was a bit difficult when he said shit like that.

Why dating had to be so difficult?

Not that she was dating Jon. Or that she thought they were going to date. It was just the general idea of dating.

She was pretty sure Jon would never want to date her. She was way different from his other girlfriends. She was almost sure she wasn’t his type.

Lip-biting excluded.

She could be mature. This was going to work out very well. She knew.

The doorbell rang.

Oh heavens…

XxX

Jon took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell. It was just dinner with Sansa, they’ve done it a thousand times before.

But they’d never kissed before.

He needed to make things right between them, which meant doing whatever she wanted. He was willing to pretend nothing ever happened if it was what she wanted, he just didn’t want them to become strangers.

Jon could handle anything but that.

The door opened, revealing Sansa. “Hey.” She smiled at him, but her smile was tremulous, like she wasn’t sure of anything. “Come in.”

Jon entered and showed her the ice cream he had in his hand. “I brought dessert.”

“Great.” Her smile was a bit more sincere now. “Come to kitchen. I have to put the casserole in the oven.”

Jon followed her silently to the kitchen, then put the ice cream in the freezer. “Sansa…”

She turned to him, the casserole on her hands. “Hum?”

Jon took the thing from her and put it on the counter. “I…” He took a deep breath. “Are we okay?”

Sansa opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened again. “You mean after you bit me?” She offered a bit dryly.

Jon cleared his throat again. “Something like that.”

Sansa crossed her arms. “Why did you do it?”

Jon could give her a thousand different answers; he could lie, he could give the answer he thought she wanted to hear, he could protect himself.

However, now, standing in front of her, he only wanted to say the truth. So he did.

“Because I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” He replied honestly.

Sansa’s arms went slack and she looked perplexed. Jon wasn’t sure if it was a good sign.

“Sansa, I…” Lord, this was hard. “I’d never do anything to jeopardize our friendship, you know that, so if what I did was…”

He never got to finish that thought, because Sansa just grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled his mouth to hers.

She was kissing him.

Sansa Stark -The Sansa Stark -was kissing him! Again! She pulled him to her, she covered his mouth with hers.

Jon was in Heaven.

He kissed her back, pouring all his feelings into it. He sucked at speaking about what he felt, the words never came to him; he hoped that Sansa could understand him like this, that she could feel his love.

The kiss slowed, until they finally stopped. Jon cradled Sansa’s face between his hands, not letting her go too far. He dropped his forehead against her and gave her a gentle peck on the lips.

“If it’s a dream…” He murmured. “I don’t want to wake up.”

Sansa giggled breathlessly. “I’m glad you bit me.”

Jon groaned. “I wasn’t planning on that…”

She cut him with a short kiss. “It was hot.” She admitted. “Seriously hot. And there was I thinking you didn’t see me as a girl at all.”

Jon stepped back -just enough to be able to look into her eyes -and frowned. “Didn’t see you as a girl?” He snorted. “I’m quite aware of the fact that you’re female.’

She slapped his shoulder.” I thought you pictured me as Robb’s annoying sister.” She clarified.

“I tried to convince myself that was the case.” He admitted with a grimace. “I tried to think of you as Robb’s little sister, so I wouldn’t have to think about all the things I imagined…” He cut himself and cleared his throat.

Sansa arched a brow. “You imagined…” She prodded.

“Doing to you.” He finished.

“Oh…” Sansa bit her lower lip. “How detailed was your imagination?”

Jon looked at her with interest. “Very detailed. Explicit, actually.”

“Is that so?” She hummed.

Jon just nodded, fighting off a smirk.

“I think we should discuss that in detail.” Sansa concluded.

“I agree. But first…” He took a deep breath. “This… Us… I want it to be for real.”

“Me too.” She agreed, giving him a peck on the lips.

“So, before any of those detailed fantasies… How about dinner?”

Sansa groaned. “You seriously wanna take me out for dinner first?”

“I insist on a proper date.” He spoke solemnly. “I’m not an easy guy, you know?”

Sansa slapped his shoulder. “Not funny.”

“Date?” He offered, his hand touching her face.

“Date.”

They shared another kiss, then Sansa pulled back. “How are we going to tell Robb?”

“Oh fuck.”

#madame baggio #crackship #modern au #one shot #fanfiction #posted on ao3 #game of thrones #Sansa Stark #jon snow #sansa stark x jon snow #jonsa

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storiesforallfandoms · 5 years

Text

freak ~ xavier; american horror story: 1984

word count: 1546

request?: no

description: when the group arrives to camp redwood, they come to learn that they have one other camp councilor, the local freak girl.

pairing: xavier plympton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, drug use (depending on if you consider weed a drug), a little cheeky and flirty but no flat out smut

(y/f/n) = your full name

“So we’re the only councillors?”

“No, there’s one other person who volunteered.”

As if on cue, (Y/N) came around the corner, a lit cigarette at her lips as she took a long drag from it. The group of friends stared at her in shock before their looks turned to disgust and glares. All except for Brooke’s, who looked around in confusion.

“Who is that?” she whispered to Montana.

“That’s (Y/F/N),” Montana whispered back. “Total weirdo freak. Wears all black, dyed her hair black, is super anti-social. She’s basically a serial killer in the making.”

Brooke eyed (Y/N) as she took another drag from her cigarette, only to have it snatched from her by Margaret. (Y/N) watched as the cigarette was thrown to the grown and stomped out.

“I already told you no smoking on camp grounds,” she scolded the younger girl. “Anyways, this is our other camp councilor, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is - ”

“I know who they are,” (Y/N) said, eyeing the group of friends. “Except the brunette chick. Nice to meet you, but since you’re hanging out with these preppy fuckers I have a feeling we won’t be talking again. None of them really like me, and lucky for them the feeling is mutual.”

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife as the group of friends glared down (Y/N), who looked like she could give less of a fuck.

Margaret cleared her throat. “Well, that’s enough introductions. Let’s go on a tour of the camp grounds, shall we?”

~~~~~~~

Later that day, when the camp tour was over, the group of friends had set up in the councilor rooms. (Y/N) already had her things set up and was nowhere to be seen.

“Probably out planning how she’s gonna kill all of us,” Chet commented. “Seriously, who the hell let’s a freak like her be a camp councilor? Just one look at her tells you all you need to know about her.”

“They must’ve been really desperate,” Montana said. “Be sure to sleep with one eye open everyone.”

As they talked their shit, like they always did, Xavier pocketed his weed and made his way down to the lake not too far from the camp. Ever since Margaret’s big show of stomping out (Y/N)’s cigarette, and her long speech about how she was against basically everything fun, Xavier realized smoking the weed he packed was going to be easier said than done. Therefore, he decided to find a secret spot far enough away from the camp that he could go to take a puff.

The sound of running water indicated that he was closing in on the river. He stood back to survey the area, seeing that there was just enough trees in the way that he wouldn’t be caught smoking. The smell might give him away, but by the time anyone got close enough to catch him he’d have the joint gone.

He pushed aside some of the trees and started when he found that he wasn’t the only one there. Laying on the ground next to the river was none other than (Y/N) herself, in nothing but her black bra and matching lacy panties, the newest craze in the sex revolution. She had sunglasses on, covering her eyes. She as still for a moment, and Xavier was sure she was asleep. He started to light up his joint and jumped when she spoke.

“You’re not supposed to have that. Booth will flip her shit.”

“That’s why I’m out here,” he responded, putting the joint to his lips and taking a puff. “What are you going to do? Rat me out?”

“Not if you give me a puff,” she responded. Xavier chuckled and passed her the joint. She sat up on her elbows and took a drag, then began to cough heavily. “Fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a puff. Weed has a whole different burn than cigarettes.”

“You know, they’re starting to say those are bad for you,” Xavier said, taking the joint back and taking a puff for himself. “They say it causes all sort of health issues and shit.”

“Yeah, and they say weed causes loss of brain cells.” She looked at Xavier over her sunglasses.

“Touché,” he shrugged.

(Y/N) laid back down and Xavier stood, puffing at his joint. Finally, he threw it to the ground and stomped it out, burying it in some dirt with his shoe so no one would find it. Not that he expected anyone but (Y/N) to be out here.

“What are you even doing out here?” Xavier asked her.

“I wanted to get the last ounce of sun in before the brats come,” she responded. “I have two younger siblings, 5 and 8, and I swear to fuck there’s nothing more annoying than a fucking child, especially a child during summer break.”

“Well why did you volunteer here if you don’t even like kids?”

(Y/N) sat up again and took her sunglasses off to look at Xavier. For the first time, he noticed how bright her eyes were, a complete contrast to her wardrobe.

“Believe it or not Mr. Wannabe-Hollywood, I don’t exactly have any friends. My summers are spent in my house doing absolutely nothing and being bored as all fuck. I decided that was going to change this year, so when I heard that the camp was looking for councillors, I decided to put my time towards something more productive. I mean, it is going to suck having to deal with kids, but it’s better than being all by myself.”

Xavier was shocked at her answer. Even though he and his friends were always talking shit and picking on (Y/N), he just assumed she had friends of her own. But now that he mentioned it, he really had never seen her with anybody, not even one person. He never stopped to consider that the things being sad about her were prohibiting her from having friends, even though some of the rumors going around about her were absolutely awful.

(Y/N) looked out at the pond, refusing to meet his eye. The last thing she wanted was pity from this preppy motherfucker, the same motherfucker that had been treating her like shit since the day she met him and his group of preppy friends. They were all the same, they saw someone like (Y/N) who had her hair dyed dark since she was young and preferred to wear dark clothes over the hideously bright neon colours that everyone seemed to adore and deemed her a freak; an outcast. And now, because of that asshole who was climbing through windows and killing people, a serial killer.

“I didn’t know - ” Xavier started.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” (Y/N) snapped. “Why are you still here? Your joint is finished, go fuck off back to your cabin. I’m sure your group of wannabe friends are all wondering where you are.”

Xavier sighed. He knew he deserved that.

He turned to start back for his cabin, but then stopped to face (Y/N) again. She now had her legs drawn up to her chest and was resting her head on her knees, doing everything in her power to not face Xavier. A single tear ran down her face, leaving a trail of black as her eye makeup was smudged by the water.

“I’m sorry,” he said. She turned to look at him. “For everything we said and did to you. Obviously none of us really considered that you were taking it to heart. You always just seemed so...uncaring and so...cool.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Right, you thought I was cool.”

“I did,” Xavier admitted. “I always have. You seemed to let the bullshit just roll off your back. You never seemed to care. I thought that was amazing, and I wished I could just shrug off the shit people say about me. I never knew that it affected you like that...but I guess I should’ve considering...”

(Y/N) sighed. “Yeah well...it’s not like you guys are the only ones who say that shit. Even the adults have been saying it for years. Saying I’m a freaky little girl, refusing to let their kids hang around with me because they were afraid of what I’d do to them.”

The more she told him, the more Xavier felt bad that he ever went along with anything Montana had said about (Y/N). She wasn't a freak, she was just someone suffering from stupid rumors and lies about her.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again.

(Y/N) shook her head. “Don’t be sorry, really it’s fine.”

Xavier walked back and sat down beside her. She looked at him, confused. “Consider me your first friend. I’ll defend you from everyone, we can come down here to get away from the shitty kids, maybe have a joint every once in a while.”

She looked away from him, trying to hide her face. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“I told you, I’ve always thought you were cool. Maybe your coolness might rub off on me.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile, then laugh. Xavier smiled with her.

This is a sort of shitty imagine whoops but I’m in love with Xavier.

#American horror story #American horror story imagine #American horror story x reader #ahs 1984 #American horror story 1984 #cody fern #cody fern imagine #cody fern x reader #xavier plympton #Xavier plymopton imagine #Xavier Plympton x reader #imagine #one shot

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secretgamergirl · 4 years

Text

Hate Mobs Gotta Go

Last night, I did something I have never expected to do, and just full on gave up on a fun RPG writing assignment. Which I had to do because I hit a point where it was so overdue and unfinished that I was falling asleep sitting up and stress vomiting and other such things. There’s a whole lot of factors behind that. Other health issues, the toll of being on total pandemic lockdown for months, with neighbors just straight up open mouth coughing at my door, emergencies with friends and family, multiple fires and hardware failures, but the main thing was, and still is, the constant harassment from a militant hate mob, completely out of touch with reality.

Years ago, I remember there was this thing the internet at large was fond of doing with foaming at the mouth far right religious extremists- Mercilessly ridiculing them in public to expose how disconnected everything they said or did was from reality. Remember seeing this one float around and laughing your head off?

And if I mention the Westboro Baptist Church, you immediately picture a single family of raving bigots picketing funerals and such with their big homophobic signs, with a bigger crowd mocking them, right?

For some reason, the modern version of that particular flavor of fringe weirdo doesn’t get that sort of ridicule. Presumably because they’re focusing almost exclusively on trans people, and most people have this weird thing where like if you stick up for trans people you get cooties or something and never dig into the real juicy ridicule fodder. But for real, this stuff is OUT THERE. Just look at a few examples here.

Come for the weird ravings about harvesting baby organs. Stay for the... adult woman who apparently believes breasts get their shape from actually being sacks filled with milk under women’s skin? Now, how about this colorful comparison?

For anyone who wasn’t aware, pronouns are words like “I” “you” “he” “she” “it” and “this,” while rohypnol is colloquially known as “the date rape drug,” so this is utter gibberish. The full context of course is that this person is trying to make the argument that forcing this bigot to refer to women she’s prejudiced against as “she” instead of arbitrarily tossing around “he” or “it” is... raping her brain, I guess?

So... this is pretty clearly some creep’s weird little fantasy. The obvious giveaway is pretending that trans women “aren’t in the correct bathroom” when going to... the correct bathroom, and that the non-existent law about this is somehow enforced by... random bigots opting to deputize themselves. What DOES happen for real though is bigots like this being arrested for barging into public restroom stalls with camcorders aimed at the crotches of women on toilets and trying to defend themselves by insisting they have some duty to check what their genitals look like. On which note...

That’s just disgusting. It’s also as close as I feel comfortable to posting all the graphic fantasies I see from these people about the barbaric genital mutilation they imagine trans women subject ourselves to which really has no basis at all in reality. Well maybe I can post this one.

I’m not going to go through and itemize all the baldfaced lies in that, because I really kinda hope I don’t have to, and also because the person who slapped this together was kind enough to break it up in such a way that I legitimately can say “every single line of this is a completely baseless lie.” Also the art in the corner is stolen from a child-friendly comic whose author is trans, so, that’s extra slimy. Also wow that “bone scans” bit is actually one I’ve never seen. Where the hell do they even get these ideas?

Also this one needs some setup. If you have time, this right here is a freaking journey, if not, I’ll try to summarize.

So a while ago, this one particular unhinged bigot decided the most productive way to spend all her time was to get in touch with a bulk sticker printing business and order thousands if not millions of these weird gross poorly framed slabs with a really crude drawing of a penis and bunch of gibberish she really wishes were the names of popular twitter hashtags that nobody else but her ever uses. And then after receiving these, just... wandering around the city she lives in all day every day plastering them on phone booths and power poles and the mirrors of bathrooms in like.. elementary schools and park benches, just everywhere. And then makes multiple passes a day apparently to make sure nobody has tried to remove any of them, as detailed in this amazing thread I’ll link again.

So the latest break in that particular saga is that same zealot going around plastering stickers like this around too, to make it seem like “both sides do it.”

It should be obvious that that’s a “blacks rule!” sort of fake between the baffling text and using the extra inclusive, particular emphasis on supporting people of color, general purpose LGBT+ flag, but also, like their fellows on 4chan, they plan this sort of “false flag” crap in broad daylight:

I should really properly credit the whistle-blowing on that particular oddity, and I should also note that aside from the breast milk sacks, this is all just stuff I saw TODAY catching up on my twitter feed, but my main point with all this is to illustrate that we really are dealing with Jack Chick/Westboro Baptist-level unhinged zealotry... but again, nobody’s out there pointing and laughing. And it turns out, when you don’t have people pointing and laughing at this sort of thing, you get people taking it seriously. So... when I went to quickly search for a news story to link with the bit about creeps barging in on women with cameras, the results I got were... this.

That... sure is a lot of stories about totally innocent people in a demographic I belong to being murdered by total strangers goaded into blind murderous hatred by the sort of people I’m pointing and laughing at! Ha ha! There’s a very real chance of that happening to me every time I step outside, for any reason! Tee hee! I live in a state of constant fear! Whoopsie!

And it’s not just stuff like that. The people posting these rambling tirades about “breast milk sack implants” and putting crude penis stickers everywhere, never being called out as the unhinged weirdos they are, either have the world turning a blind eye to all this crap, or have everything they do downplayed in the media to the point where outright sexual harassment, doxing, and slurs I don’t want to repeat get headlines like “so-and-so made comments that some fringe trans activists on the internet deem ‘possibly transphobic’” and that’s AT BEST. More often you get stuff like the one incident I managed to bring a lot of public attention to way back when, where some bigot just literally walked up to someone on the street, grabbed them, savagely beat the hell out of them until pulled apart, had friends film the whole thing, and bragged after the fact about it, and every story that appeared as a result claimed the assailant was the victim, because they were all written by her friends.

Face obscuring provided by me here, by the way.

And that isn’t a one-off incident. Because, see, most of these unhinged weirdos spewing out all this transphobic gibberish are not, as you would think, a bunch of barely educated Trump hat wearing members of some fringe religious congregation. They’re editors and producers in major British news outlets. This isn’t me shouting conspiracy nonsense either, this is well-documented. Like, The Guardian gets public internal protests over this crap. So does the BBC. Yes, other respected news sites cover this. Media watchdog groups do their best to reign this in with hearings and such, but, don’t actually have any power to enforce anything really. So when there’s “reporting” on this crap, it’s coming directly from the “breast milk sack implant” people. Oh and here’s some screenshots of the headlines of those stories you’re too lazy to click through and actually read:

And of course, sometimes when they want to really come across as respectful, they try to find “scientists” and “doctors” who back up their ravings but all they have to fall back on are disgraced quacks who spend most of their time on activism work to normalize pedophilia.

I’m not bringing that point about Cantor up to discredit his writings about trans people by the way. He doesn’t really HAVE any writings about trans people. He just pasted the names of a bunch of random studies from the 70s about whether playing with barbies makes you gay into his blog a few years back and this crowd was so desperate for validation they declared him an “expert in the field” and started passing out links to his.... pro-pedophila blog. Which is part of this whole pattern, but I’ve written about that before. Oh and the governments of multiple countries manage to treat all these people as “experts” and make policy decisions based on their ravings. That’s fun.

Anyway, aside from encouraging random people to, you know, just randomly murder anyone they see who looks like maybe a trans woman, every so often this weird little cult pulls in an actual celebrity who then has a public meltdown as they post all this gibberish to a wider audience. Currently this is going on with Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling (who’s actively promoting the pedophile guy up there on Twitter), and I think also William Shatner, but I haven’t really looked into it. The last big one though was Graham Linehan. Who you might remember from co-writing some sitcoms that were popular decades ago in Britain, or from being the weird cartoon villain who tried to kill the funding of a children’s charity, prompting this strange pledge drive marathon of Donkey Kong Country.

You might also know him as one of... I think honestly just two people who have ever managed to be such out of control stalking hate mongers that they were actually given a permanent no possible appeal ban from Twitter. Personally though I know him more as, you know, that one absolute creep who’s been obsessively stalking me for like 5 years and never shutting up about his weird personal obsession with me.

I WOULD link the recent freaking filmed interview he did where he spent forever rambling about me, but I’d have to actually watch it to confirm I had the right link, and also the only place I could quickly find a link to it would be on his twitter feed, which as stated, no longer exists. Oh and random side note there, despite being personally, by name, the person he was explicitly targeting all his hateful ramblings at, he wasn’t banned from that site for any of the disgusting stuff he said to me. He just slipped up and mentioned a cis woman with a professorship while shouting about this crap recently and that caused people to actually take action. I do so love being invisible.

Anyway, point is, prior to Rowling grabbing the baton from him as his social media presence went up in flames, this guy was name-dropping me a LOT. Presumably he still is, just in places fewer people see it. And when you have as big an audience as he did, and that audience is as full of hatemongers as his was, that has a pretty noticeable effect. I’ve been deluged with so much hateful garbage for so long it’s impossible for me to put any numbers on it. The closest I can do to quantify it is note that hate dump was big enough that I was also flooded with more weird messages intended as support from total strangers than I could deal with, totally losing access to social media feeds and my e-mail from the volume for a good bit, and THAT flood was big enough that I got this whole second wave of creepy stalkers who’d built up this whole weird fanon where this stalker here is like, someone I used to date or be business partners with and not just some creepy dude like twice my age stalking me over the internet, from a completely different hemisphere.

And I mean... in the broadest of strokes, I can kinda laugh all this off. Because... these people are completely ridiculous, out of touch with reality, and mostly live in other countries. But... all the threats and shouting are very real and very constant and like.. picture someone outside on the street shouting at your windows about how they’re going to break in and kill you. You really can’t ignore that. Even if they’re unarmed, and all they’re really capable of doing is shouting and pounding on your door, you can’t really just ignore that shouting and pounding and just watch a movie or play a game or write this article you promised would be done 3 months ago. You can certainly try, but a pretty big part of your brain is going to be occupied with thoughts about how maybe you should call someone to see if they’ll escort this violent person away, or maybe you should barricade your door in case all that pounding does something.

And I mean this isn’t a bad metaphor for how all the constant threats and stalking I’m dealing with thanks to celebrity bigots personally obsessed with me impacts my life, but it also does a pretty good job of describing how my night went pretty recently when I ACTUALLY DID HAVE SOMEONE POUNDING ON MY ACTUAL REAL PHYSICAL DOOR SHOUTING ABOUT STABBING ME TO DEATH, and no, there was no resolution to that beyond the sound of sirens causing that person to back off.

I also had an experience not too long ago where I was supposed to take a cab to a routine appointment, a car showed up with the cab company’s name on it, somewhat early, and proceeded to drive me... out to the middle of the freaking woods like an hour from where I live, and when my phone rang with my actual cab asking where I was the driver freaked out, had me get out of the car, and took off leaving me just... stuck in the middle of nowhere freezing to death and trying to find a landmark an actual cab could pick me up from. Still don’t know what the hell that whole thing was about and whether a cab driver just REALLY didn’t know what he was doing and panicked or what, but I do know that talking about it publicly in the vaguest of terms lead to a bunch of unhinged shouting from... apparently some unconnected ride share driver with a habit of dumping trans women between stops when they try to get medications or something, convinced I was calling him out for that.

So.... yeah. Things aren’t exactly going great in my neck of the woods. I’d really appreciate it if people would properly treat these unhinged violent weirdos like unhinged violent weirdos and not respectable members of society so they quit getting so bold and public with the violent stuff, and people who listen to them get properly shouted down for doing so.

#transphobia #stalking

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