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simp4konig · 9 months

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"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️💫💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

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hwasoup · 2 months

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Tale As Old As Time

@kit-and-wolfe drew this for me in the server so, now imma use it :') Omg hi guys, Ik its been a while since I last updated but it's mainly bc I'm not ready to say goodbye to this series yet TT there's about 2 chapters left guysss so I hope you guys understand how much I'm edging it. Anywho the chapter is finally here !! I hope you enjoy !!

warnings: fearmongering, manipulation words: 1.8k

ch.6 | next

Chapter 7: The Mob

The days have passed since y/n traveled back to the village

Eddie was simply lounging around nearby Y/N’s home, as per Ben’s instruction from a couple of days ago to alert him if Y/N was home. He was just sitting by a bush minding his own business until he looked up and saw in the distance, a woman riding on a horse as fast as the animal could take her. He squinted a bit and realized it was Y/N. Immediately he got up and ran to where Ben was located, obviously in his tavern.

Eventually after a bit of running, he manages to catch Ben before he leaves on a hunt. Gasping for air, he holds onto the cuff of his sweater. “She’s…. She’s back…” Ben stops in his tracks and smirks to himself “well then…. it's time to initiate the plan…” On the other hand, back at the humble inventor’s cottage. Y/N swiftly made her way back home and immediately into her father’s room. She looked at him and gasped at how sickly he looked. His eyes looked sunken, and it was clear that he hasn’t exactly been able to take a bite of food in a couple of hours. Y/N quickly walked to his bedside and grabbed the nearest towel and dunked it in some cool water that was in a bucket in the corner of his room. She wrings it out and proceeds to approach him and wipe his face, hoping that his fever would subside a bit. Mauricio’s eyes slightly flutter at the feeling of cool water drying on his face, he looks up groggily and mumbled “Mija?” Y/N’s heart melted, and she whispered “shhh, no te preocupes…I’m home.”

Mauricio took a minute to process her words. His eyes widened when he fully registered that his precious daughter was sitting right before him. He immediately adjusts his posture and tries to sit up to the best of his ability "…. I thought I would never see you again...” Mauricio immediately leans in for a hug. Y/N happily returns it to him and rests her chin on his shoulder “I missed you so much…” Mauricio tightened his hug with his daughter until he remembered a specific detail... “But…but the beast. How…how did you even escape!”

“Papa, I didn’t escape…he let me go..” She says fondly. Mauricio looked at her shocked “what? The Beast did ??” Y/N unknowingly smiles fondly at the thought of the man… “yes…Miguel let me go...” Mauricio raised some eyebrows “MIGU-” he started furiously coughing. Y/N patted his back to help him ease his lungs from all of his coughing. His voice was strained from his coughs, and he cleared his voice a bit. “That…ese monstruo ?” Y/N immediately shook her head “not a monster…he’s different…he’s quirky, silly, and incredibly gentle..he’s…. he’s changed…” She bites her lip and looks up at her father until she hears a knock on the door. “I’ll be back papa.” She stands up from sitting on the edge of the bed and goes to attend the door. A man stood at the door with a menacing grin “erm…con que te puedo ayudar..” she says hesitantly. “Vine a recoger a tu padre” he says with an eerie voice. “Wait…my papa ??” she says in surprise. Y/N stands there looking at the man with confusion in her eyes, as well as worry as she hopes that her father didn’t do anything to further tarnish the broken reputation he has in the village.

“Don’t worry senorita..we’ll take care of him” the man says as he moves from her sight and shows her a locked wooden carriage, on the side saying Psiquiátrico de alocado. Surrounding the carriage, she noticed the villagers all surrounding it, with torches and pitchforks ready to use them as weapons if it comes to that point. Y/N immediately registered what was happening and immediately protected her father “MI PAPA NO ES UN LOCO” she said with fierceness in her voice. She was pushed aside by two villagers who barged into her home and forcibly dragged-out Mauricio and threw him inside the carriage. Y/N got up immediately and tried her best to try and get him out, but all she could do was just be pushed away. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as everything suddenly started to look hopeless. “Poor Y/N…it really is a shame about your father...” “Ben!” Y/N looked at him desperately as she held onto the hem of his shirt “please, you know he’s not crazy” Ben hummed as he played faux innocence “but you see Y/N your father… he’s been making absurd claims, but….I am able to…well clear up this small misunderstanding…if…” Y/N looks up at him desperately “If what!” Ben chuckles and grabs her by the waist making her body be pushed against his. “If you marry me” he says with a grin. Ben leans down and tries to sniff her soft hair “one small word Y/N that’s all it takes…” Anger bubbled in Y/N’s body, and she pushes him away, her nonverbal actions speaking in volumes as to her response to his manipulation tactic. Ben scowls at her and gruffly says “Have it your way then...” and he walks away to the crowd until Y/N yells “WAIT”

“WHAT CLAIMS WAS MY FATHER EVEN MAKING” she yelled out. Ben turned to her and chuckled “oh…why about a Beast..” Y/N in that moment remembered she had the magic mirror in the pocket of her apron and she pulls it out “PLEASE ITS TRUE… I HAVE PROOF.” She looks down at the mirror and softly spoke to it “Show me The Beast”

The mirror glowed a green color and rose into the air, a bright flashing light arose and projected an image on its reflective glass surface and revealed Miguel and his beastly appearance. Every villager, including Ben gasped at his ghastly sight. Even Eddie stepped back a bit after seeing it

In awe Ben ripped the mirror out of the air and approached the villagers “look at this sorcery, look at this BEAST!” He turned the mirror around to show the villagers “LOOK AT HIS FANGS, HIS CLAWS!”

Y/N’s heart broke at how people saw him and tried her best to defend him “No..please…don't be afraid…He’s gentle…and kind” Murmurs were heard throughout the crowd…but Ben…he was appalled…the woman he desired so much to be his wife…was calling the Beast KIND….words that she had never said to him. He turns to her in anger, anger that the Beast has clearly won her affections and in an accusatory tone pointed at her

“The monster has her under his spell…. IF I DIDN'T”T KNOW BETTER I CAN SAY SHE CARES FOR HIM” “HE'S NOT A MONSTER BEN…YOU ARE” Ben’s face grimaced, but he had to mask it in front of the villagers “I’ve heard of the effects of Dark Magic, but never like this…” Ben decided on what to do. “THIS IS A THREAT TO THE BANE OF OUR EXISTENCE” The villagers cheered in agreement as they truly believed that Y/N was under a spell and that she is now a danger. “WE CAN'T HAVE HER WARNING THE CREATURE, LOCK HER UP TOO !”

Y/N’s heart shattered as she was immediately grabbed by the arms of Ben, the man of the carriage opened the doors and allowed Ben to throw her inside the wooden box alongside her father as well and closed the doors of it as well. His face was filled with fury, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Eddie.. “Ben… with all due respect but-”

“SHUT IT OR YOU'LL BE WITH THEM TOO, AND FETCH MY HORSE”

Eddie’s voice reduced to a whimper and he looked down…He knew this was wrong…what was originally a menacing plan had now become just pure cruelty. He knew he couldn’t fight against an angry Ben so he stayed silent and left to do what he was instructed.

Ben then proceeded to initiate a riot with the villagers, to prepare to fight, to encourage them to kill the Beast. Each villager went into their homes and brought out muskets, pitchforks, knives, torches, anything that could be used as a weapon. After what seemed minutes, Ben led a mob of angry villagers and used the magic mirror to find where the castle was located and led them out and directly into the woods.

______________________________________________________________ Inside the carriage however Y/N was huddled beside her father as she tried to check on his health despite the severe conditions they were in. Y/N was scared for Miguel…she wanted to warn him desperately, but she also needed to watch her father. She thought long and hard until she decided that she needed to warn Miguel.

“Papa…I need to warn him..” Mauricio looked up at her and coughed “Ay Mija..but…I- I’m scared for you…It will be dangerous” Y/N crouched beside him and nodded “yes…it will be..but, he did everything for me…he even gifted me his library..” Mauricio’s eyes widened “a library ? How many books are there ?” Y/N chuckled “more than what this village can even hold, Papa..trust me…he saved me from the wolves and now..I must repay him..” Mauricio looked into her eyes and saw a look that he had never seen in his precious daughter’s eyes. He used to have that look when he was younger and when his wife was alive. He then smiled softly knowing that well…his daughter is all grown up now, even if she hasn’t realized it herself. “If it what your heart desires…then…I could try and pick the lock” Y/N smiled as she listened to her father ramble “After all, it's only just gears and springs” he reached his hand outside the bars of the carriage to get a hold of the lock. “ But..I would need something..” he turns to look at her “shar…p” Y/N was already holding a hair pin on the palm of her hand. Mauricio chuckled and took it into his hands “perfect” He then placed his hands back out of the bars and took a hold of the lock again and used the pin to start picking at it. He eventually finally opened the lock and pushed the doors of the carriage open, quickly getting himself out as well as y/n. He turned to her and ran with her to the stables and whispered to her “take Felipe as well as this coat and go warn your friend” Y/N nodded and whispered a small thank you to him as she quickly packed everything and immediately got on Felipe and rode on him, holding onto the reins as she prayed that the trusty steed would gallop as quickly as possible to the castle.

Maurico watched as she disappeared back into the forest and smiled softly, reiterating the thoughts he had before…

his daughter was in love…even if she hasn’t realized or admitted it yet.

taglist:

@cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles,@xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n,

@badbishsblog, @faimmm, @keendreamknight, @texanadmirer, @stargirrls, @itzsab,@delectableworm,@jadeloverxd @pinkmistart, kishimiest,

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel atsv

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the-bar-sinister · 24 days

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I just wanted to say that you guys are so brave for just... Going against the grain in today's fandom culture. I remember the good days when anyone could have any type of gender/sexuality headcanons and they were all valid, now try having other hcs for character sexualities that aren't what fanon likes or, as a trans person, not vibing with a trans headcanon bc of how fetishistic it seems and get ready for the torches and the pitchforks.

Wish I could be as brave as you. I wanna get back into the silly lawyers game after leaving in 2016, but I'm just so afraid of being attacked for not... liking the pre-established fanon or liking ships that aren't that accepted/beloved.

Come and sit at my lunch table and talk about the lawyer games with me, anon!

The only way to make fandom a welcoming space for all fans-- the only way to make it so that it's not a single voice or a single headcanon that gets heard on repeat-- is for fans who have different opinions and headcanons and ideas to actually voice those opinions.

Its really easy to feel silenced and shamed by popular headcanons, and like you don't belong in fandom, but that's not true.

There is a place in fandom for every voice and every idea, and the only way that we can make shy people feel more welcome is to be loud and welcoming and inviting!

I could easily keep my opinions to myself and just post fic on AO3, or only talk about my ideas in a private discord server.

But I really, really WANT to see more voices and more opinions and more headcanons-- even ones that disagree with mine-- pop up and blossom in fandom in general and in Ace Attorney fandom in specific!

Obviously I don't want you to put too much stress on yourself, but I think it would be wonderful if you managed to feel comfortable playing in this sandbox too.

And even if you don't, I'm so glad you sent me this message, and I hope to hear from you again some time! <3

#ask answers #friend mail #fandom #fandom wank #ace attorney #ace attorney community #fandom community

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lvicevlk · 1 year

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i wonder sometimes if people miss that when jiang cheng says "don't make me look bad" what he means is "not embarassing me in public is the only thing i have found that gets around how my mother has convinced you that you are disposable" except when he means "if the howling mob comes after you with torches and pitchforks i'll stand with you but honestly, bro, i don't like our odds."

It has taken me forever to get to this and I am so sorry. Real life was draining me and I’ve finally got some time off to recover. Thank you for your patience.

It is astonishing to me that so many people somehow fail to understand the importance of reputation in the story. It’s a damned central theme how reputation, how what people think of you or say about you directly impacts how they treat you. It’s a presiding factor in Wei Wuxian’s downfall at the end of his first life. He makes everyone scared of him and thinks that’s going to make them leave him alone, instead it terrifies people to the point that the Jin can use a base truth, that he doesn’t have much respect any authority or boundaries aside from his own, to paint him as an imminent threat to the world. He built himself a reputation as an uncontrollable and frankly heretical wildcard and it comes back to bite him in the ass when people respond accordingly.

Reputation matters hugely to the story and to the people in it. Jiang Cheng is not wrong for trying to impress this on Wei Wuxian. Reputation is, among other things, a currency all it’s own and, if we’re focusing on the Yunmeng boys here, Jiang Cheng spends a lot of his life shelling out cash to try and cover Wei Wuxian’s debts.

When they’re kids, it’s one thing. It’s still very not good and look, for me personally, I would not chose to spend a whole lot of time with a guy who seemed to think that violating my boundaries and publicly humiliating me was prime entertainment but Jiang Cheng loves Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian loves him back, even if they do not express that in ways that are all that healthy. Wei Wuxian teases Jiang Cheng because he wants his overly serious baby brother to relax, to smile and laugh and have fun. That’s a wonderful impulse and there are times where it’s works. There are also times where it’s utterly inappropriate and Wei Wuxian is, I think often willfully, blind to that. And worse, he doesn’t listen when Jiang Cheng tells him so. I once saw someone claim that Wei Wuxian only acts like that in public so that Jiang Cheng can look good by reining him in, which would be an interesting take if it was at all supported by the text instead of being a blatant contradiction thereof. It would require that Wei Wuxian not only listen to Jiang Cheng but do as he is asked. Which he does not at any point ever. It’s kinda a massive plot point that Wei Wuxian Does What He Wants and no one can tell him otherwise.

When they get older the consequences of Wei Wuxian’s habit of dicking around and messing with Jiang Cheng go beyond pissing off Madam Yu and become a lot more pronounced. Madam Yu’s anger is understandable even if the way she expresses it is unconscionable. She knows that Wei Wuxian’s behavior is damaging both to the Sect and to Jiang Cheng’s reputations and that it will and does actively impede Jiang Cheng’s ability to stand on the political field with the other Sect Leaders. Because when they look at him they see his reputation: the less favored child, the lesser cultivator, the Sect Heir and then Leader whose own right hand constantly dismisses and undermines him. Why should they take him seriously?

#The Untamed #Jiang Cheng #Wei Wuxian #Yunmeng disasters

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atmilliways · 10 months

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Wrong On The Money (28)

part 28 of ?? | 862 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

The next time Dustin visits, Eddie goes out of his way to agree that, okay, sure, Steve is pretty great. Dustin is ecstatic, bragging about how he knew they would be friends if they gave each other a chance. Steve himself dozes through the start of the conversation, but Eddie is pretty sure he wakes up with a smile, so who knows.

Happy Monday, have some idiots. (affectionate)

28.

And with that, the floodgates have broken.

When Robin stops by, Eddie name drops a possible mutual friend. Her eyes go big and her mouth drops into an O before she rounds on Steve and hisses, “Dingus, I know you’re on medication but did you tell him?”

“What? No,” Steve yelps, eyes flashing back and forth between them in sudden confusion. “I mean—” and oh god, his poker face is laughable, whoever dubbed this guy Mr. Cool was hilariously wrong “—uh, no? Told him what? I don’t know anything.”

Eddie smirks and cuts in with a smooth, “Nah, he’s innocent as a little baby. It just takes one to know one, Bucks.” (He’ll come clean to her about the blackmail some day, but. . . not without the ability to book it out of there in the event of nuclear rage.)

They bond over laughing at Steve for sputtering that he is not a little baby, he was a whole nine pounds at birth—

Lucas stops in again, between visits with Max, and Eddie clears the air about the end of the last Hellfire campaign.

“But look,” he concludes, after apologizing for cutting him out, “if it ever comes up again, don’t have your friends try to make the reschedule happen for you, ‘kay? Being there to plead your case is a much better look, and shows a lot more respect for everybody else’s time. Catch me, or . . . whoever runs the club next year, between classes or something.”

The kid nods, saying he will, and after he’s gone Steve peers over at him.

“Are you finally going to graduate this year, Munson?” A little coil of hurt starts to form in Eddie’s chest, only to be immediately unwound when Steve beams at him. “That’s great, man, congratulations! Maybe ‘86 is your year after all.”

“It's not,” Eddie mumbles, face reddening—except for where a livid scar already crawls up the side of his cheek. The stitches only came out of it yesterday. “I missed finals, so it depends whether good ol’ Hawkins High decides to send me off in victory or disgrace, which. . . .” He sighs. “Let’s just say that there’s already a precedent, and it ain’t the good option.”

“Oh come on, if they let me graduate they can let you graduate too,” Steve argues. “I racked up two concussions and a shit-ton of missed days in senior year because of migraines.” (And yeah, Eddie remembers his comment about how he’d helped Wayne and ‘didn't even get another concussion doing it.’ Jesus H. Christ.) “You nearly died, and as far as this town knows it’s because a mob came at you with torches and pitchforks! They can cut you some slack.”

“They won’t.”

“I can call my parents,” Steve offers, and holy shit he looks serious. “My mom’s super respected by the school board. If I promise to move out so they can sell the house, I’m sure she’d do me a favor.”

Eddie winces. “Steve. Where would you live if you did that?”

“With you and Wayne,” he replies, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world and totally not causing Eddie’s brain to self-destruct. “The government’s giving you guys a house, and I’ve spent the past couple months pre-paying on rent.”

“I. . . .” Eddie blinks. A pretty boy is asking to live with him. A pretty boy he threatened for money, for months, is asking to live with him, even knowing what he did and that he’s a flaming homosexual. “Are you sure you don’t have another concussion?”

“Yeah, nothing got me in the head this time. Why?”

Why. Jesus H. Christ, this guy. “Steve,” Eddie says gravely, “You might be insane. Sweet . . . but insane.”

Steve smiles. “You think I’m sweet?”

“Oh my god.”

The thing is, Eddie knows Steve is sweet. In kind of a bitchy way—he’s half convinced the guy plays it a little dumber than necessary sometimes just to wind him up. But that, Eddie's embarrassed to admit to himself, is part of the appeal. Steve keeps him on his toes, which is generally where Eddie likes to be anyway. It’s fun.

But.

Okay.

So, he might be falling for Steve Harrington.

He just can’t see how Steve could ever feel the same. And it’s fine, they can be friends. Shit, with how much half the town still probably hates his guts, Eddie needs all the friends he can get—and he’s got a lot now.

Helping save the world will do that, it seems.

So Eddie has to kill this crush before it gets any more off the ground than it already has. Kill it with fire, because he doesn’t need an actual rejection (that Steve would be sweet about, fuck) to know that Eddie Munson doesn’t get the guy. Not like that.

Being friends is fine.

#steddie blackmail fic #they're stupid your honor #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #lucas sinclair #steddie #the mutual friend is dorothy btw

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wit4writ · 5 months

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PJO Episode 2 Detailed Review (Part 1/2)

So, episode two serves as our introduction to Camp Half-Blood and the world of demigods, and it wasn’t…great. I really didn’t want to write this review, hence the delay.

Before you come after me with torches and pitchforks, remember what I wrote about exposition robots? Well, this episode was FULL of them, which interfered with the flow of the story and development of characters. So, time to write a detailed review of episode two! (Which will be split in two parts because it’s so long.)

First up, a recap, which I didn’t have an issue with, so moving on.

Percy is in the infirmary after his big fight and sees a girl watching him. When he asks where he is, she tells him, “You drool when you sleep.”

This is a classic line from the book, but my biggest issue with putting the line here is that it feels very abrupt. Framing it as, “You know you drool when you sleep?” would make it flow easier.

Percy falls back asleep and wakes up again to Grover sitting beside him, and their conversation is fraught with tension as Percy grieves and Grover rambles. Again, this conversation could’ve been tightened up with less words.

Mr. D was great. Perfect casting, but I would’ve liked if we had character clues to Mr. D’s identity and Percy figuring it out instead of Grover telling him who he was. I appreciated Percy being a bit sassy, but I think he could’ve given him more attitude. I also didn’t need the whole “Mr. D pretends to be Percy’s dad” part, that felt a too cruel. My ideal scene would go something like this:

// Percy walks in to see Mr. D dozing.

Percy: “Excuse me?”

No response. Percy tries again, a bit louder.

Percy: “Excuse me? I’m Percy Jackson, I’m new here…Hello? Did you hear me? I said—”

Mr. D interrupts him, sitting up straight.

Mr. D: “Yeah, I heard you, Peter Johnson!”

Percy: “That’s not my name.”

Mr. D: “Well, that’s not my problem.”

Percy: “Hey, I’m just looking for the office, or someone who’s in charge?”

Mr. D scans Percy carefully, a gleam in his eye.

Mr. D: “You want to know where the office is? Well, maybe if you grab me that 1985 Chateau Haut-Brion in the galley I’d be able to remember.”

Percy: “Why can’t you just tell me?”

Mr. D: “You help me, I help you. It’s how the world works, Peter.”

Grover runs in, having overheard that last part.

Grover: “Mr. D, you know you can’t, you—”

Mr. D glares at him and Grover takes a step back and swallows hard.

Grover: “Uh, Percy, this is Mr. D—Mr. D, Percy.”

Mr. D: “Yeah, heard him the first time when he was interrupting a great nap.”

Percy: “Did you though?”

Grover: “Percy! Sir, he didn’t mean it—”

Percy: “Why are you so scared of this guy? Maybe if he could get off his own lazy butt, he’d get more blood to his brain and be able to remember my name.”

Mr. D stares at him darkly, Grover looking frantically between them both.

Mr. D: “Are you mocking me?”

Vines twine around Percy’s ankles, trapping him in place. Mr. D leans forward.

Mr. D: “You know, I could blast you, but if you get me that bottle, I’d be happy to forget this whole thing even happened.”

Mr. Brunner/Chiron (offscreen): “That’s enough.”

He enters the room on his wheelchair.

Percy: “Mr. Brunner?”

Mr. Brunner/Chiron: “Hello Percy. I’m afraid Mr. Brunner is a pseudonym I used while I was at Yancy—please, call me Chiron.”

Percy: “Oh. Okay…”

Chiron: “Mr. D, remember your restrictions.” (to Percy) “Zeus forbid Mr. D from consuming alcohol while he’s here.”

Mr. D: “Apparently, I need to ‘set an example,’ well I don’t think so, Dad!”

Percy: “Dad?” He thinks hard. “You’re Dionysus. The god of wine.”

Mr. D: “Wow, someone give the boy a prize before I blow him up.”

Grover: “Sir, Percy’s just distraught. His mom—”

Chiron: “Yes, I think we can be a little more accommodating, considering…”

Mr. D thinks it over.

Mr. D: “Sure. If he apologizes.” //

Percy then grudgingly apologizes, and Chiron ushers him out, quickly stepping out of his chair to reveal his true form. The last little scene where Grover says something doesn’t feel right is cut, instead he goes with them before Chiron sends him away to give them privacy. I think these changes would improve the flow and serve as characterization for not only Mr. D, but demonstrating his relationship with Grover, Chiron, and Percy.

The camp looked great, but Chiron’s speech over top of the montage served as more exposition. It would’ve worked better for Percy to be asking questions to make this an active conversation which he was a participant in. That’s why I appreciated Percy talking to Chiron about the pen, but I would’ve had Chiron introduce the name of the sword here and cut some of the words during his “magical items don’t obey the laws of the physical world,” bit. I would’ve rewritten a LOT of this whole conversation. I did like how Percy saw through Chiron’s rambling and realized the possibility of being unclaimed.

The Hermes cabin looked cool and Percy finding the blue candy still in his bag was a nice touch.

When Luke approaches, I think he should’ve said something so that it makes Percy’s first reaction to him more logical. Something like:

// In the background: “He’s the guy who killed the Minotaur, I think.”

Luke (offscreen): “We should find out.” (to Percy) “Hey.”

Percy looks over and sees Luke and his friends approaching.

Luke: “You’re the kid who killed the Minotaur, right? Percy something?”

Percy: “Yeah.”

Luke and his friends exchange looks.

Luke: “Wow. You must be pretty tough.”

Percy: “Look, if you want to give me a hard time, do it tomorrow. I can’t do any more today.”

Luke: “Relax, fighter. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Percy: “You didn’t?”

Luke: “Nah. I just wanted to say we heard about what happened on the hill. We’re sorry about your mom.”

The other kids nod.

Luke: “I know things are tough right now, but you’re gonna get through it. Believe me, it gets better.”

Percy: “Thanks.”

Luke extends his hand and Percy shakes it.

Luke: “I’m Luke. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.” //

Then, I’d have Luke invite Percy to lunch and say something about giving him a tour the next day, to allow for a smoother transition to the next scene.

Unfortunately, now that we’ve been introduced to Luke, we need to…talk about Luke. His actor, I mean.

Firstly, I have no issue with how Luke looks. What I do have an issue with is how his actor is portraying him.

Luke is supposed to be charismatic and confident, a leader and camp counsellor. He’s lived at camp for ages, and everyone acknowledges his amazing swordsmanship, and even if he has failed a quest (though I’m not sure if they’re going with that storyline) he’s seemingly good-natured about it.

I’m not getting any of that from the actor. He comes off as more anxious than confident, someone who’d rather not be in the spotlight. Unfortunately, that impression carried throughout the whole episode, and it was not helped by the fact Luke was mostly an exposition robot to spout facts at Percy.

The darkness transition is now three seconds—still feels a little long, but better than the first episode.

Grover’s scene in the woods I would’ve cut entirely. It was sweet to see him with the dryad (who may or may not have been his mom), but it honestly wasn’t needed. I would’ve had Grover be in the background in the previous scene, maybe watching Percy go to lunch before heading off, then started the next scene with Grover, Mr. D, and Chiron already altogether, and had them vaguely hinting instead of outright saying Percy’s mom was alive, to increase the suspense. Something like:

// Grover: “I don’t understand, why haven’t you told Percy yet?”

Chiron: “The truth can be very dangerous if not handled carefully.”

Grover: “But it’s his mom! He deserves to know!”

Chiron: “Grover, there are powerful forces at work, and we still don’t fully comprehend their motives. If we tell Percy the truth too early, we may lose him.”

Mr. D: “Then you’ll be the worst Protector on record, between Thalia and this kid.”

Grover: “But I don’t want to lie to him. He’s my best friend.”

Mr. D: “Then I suggest you avoid him, because if you say one word of this, one word—I’ll put you on stable cleaning duty for the next year. Understood?” //

So that's the end of Part 1, PART 2 will be linked here. Thoughts, reblogs, and comments are welcome!

#pjo tv show #percy jackson #pjo tv series #percy jackson review #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #tv review #annabeth chase #chiron #grover underwood #disney plus #disney percy jackson

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girlwithamissingpearl · 11 months

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I’m an Outlander fan. I’m also a SH fan. So why am I part of the minority in this Outlander/SH fandom?

I finally get it. I’ve had at least 5 people Dm me to say goodbye. Too toxic and mean. Each time I tried to convince them it’s not so bad, give it a chance. For the past 2 years I’ve read amazing things, posts and discussions.But last month I realized that I need a break. This fandom is my guilty pleasure. But how much pleasure is there when anon haters and trolls insert themselves into posts with comments like “I know who you are and you’re ugly” and “You’re stupid”. I realize the troll or trolls responsible aren’t exactly mental giants, but this behaviour would have been out of line when my kid was 5- from grown ass adults? Pathetic. So after a month I spent some time catching up and the one thing that really started to bug me came -from what seems like the majority in this fandom- was the insistence they really don’t care about SH or Outlander and they are just observing the “circus”. Seriously? If you regularly and consistently comment, follow, post and reblog SH’s every activity you are an active participant. You are interested. You are engaged. You are committed. You just don’t like SH. Not a prerequisite for the fandom, just don’t come at me for calling bullshit. Funny how so called “lurkers” post such specific anon posts. I read a post from a “lurker” who feels the mommies and grannies want to infantilize SH. They don’t. To be clear, I would confidently estimate at least 80% of SH fans don’t pay the comic con equivalent of the champagne room with any such thoughts. Take care of him? Absolutely. Touching, snogging or F*ucking him? Absolutely. And if you have a problem with that I’d like to introduce you to an 82 year old firecracker who will set you straight. Hey @dragonstepp!

So these “just observing don’t care” folks aren’t content just going after SH fans, they somehow feel he is not entitled to earn a living. Because he retweets posts from fans who buy his books or liquor or enjoy his show he is what exactly? Why do you care? Over a 100 celebrities have in one way or another put their name and face on tequila, vodka, gin etc. because fans purchase products endorsed by them. Thanking and acknowledging supporters is a way to build a brand. SH sells thousands of bottles. And just not to fans. Heard of Nobu? Why the outrage over the retweet’s? Like clockwork the casual “lurker’s” come together with torches and pitchforks every time he thanks a fan. Personally I’m impressed how he has been able to capitalize on his Outlander fame. Why wouldn’t he? Love him or hate him, SH is a smart guy who just happens to be really good looking.

One last thing. He’s been in the public eye over 10 years and I don’t think I’ve ever read a negative comment from his fans. Not every celebrity is so accommodating to fans. Many just say no to an autograph or selfie. Why is it so hard to believe that he just might be imperfect but still a decent man?

And if you’re thinking of coming at me as a brainless fan that SH has somehow taken advantage of/ don’t try me. And it’s not so much SH that I’m defending, but the thousands of women who consider SH a book boyfriend or fantasy man or whatever. We like him. We really like him. And we enjoy him. And why we participate in the fandom. So for the love of Ginger Jesus (sorry couldn’t resist) can someone explain why so many observers, lurkers, casual observers and haters are some of the most prolific participants in this fandom? Like him or don’t but don’t get upset if I call bullshit on your indifference.

#Sam Heughan

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fabuloustrash05 · 2 years

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Why I Don’t Like 2012 Apritello

A TMNT 2012 Rant

Before I start and the 2012 Apritello fans/shippers come at me with their pitchforks and torches, I want to clarify that I DO think that the ship is cute and it has a lot of potential. S1 Apritello is adorable! But after that it goes downhill and becomes very problematic, which sucks because I see the potential for it to be a good ship, but the 2012 writers just did them so dirty which lead me to dislike this ship over time.

So with that said. Enjoy my rant!

As I said before, season 1 Apritello was perfectly fine. The only minor problems I had with them in the first season was the fact that Donnie has taken pictures of her obviously without her knowledge or consent and has them as his computer wallpaper. That doesn't sit right with me. This is coming from personal experience, a guy I knew in middle school had a crush on me and he used to do that, taking my picture without my knowledge or consent and using them as his phone background and it made me really uncomfortable. If the writers just switch it to him having his background be a selfie him and her took together them that would’ve been better. Other than that, their relationship and dynamic in season 1 was fine and even cute at times.

Then season 2 comes around and the ship just gets worse from there...

I’m probably not the first to say that I don't like how creepy Donnie gets during S2 and onward. He becomes very possessive of April, looking at her like she’s an object or a trophy he has to win, instead of seeing her like she's her own person. Casey is also guilty of this, but this rant post isn’t about him.

Side Note:

April being Donnie’s love interest ruined her character. Most of her interactions with the turtles were mostly just with Donnie, because she was his love interest and she HAD to have “moments” with him. Whenever she did talk to or have genuine sweet moment with any turtle that wasn’t Donnie it felt fresh, rare, and new, but then shippers would ruin it cause they’d start calling April a wh0re for “cheating” on Donnie just from her hugging Leo or Raph, and say his brother’s are “stealing” Donnie’s girl. Like, guys, chill. Leave April alone. It’s a freaking hug. She’s allowed to be friends with Donnie’s brothers.

I always appreciate the little short moments in the show of April interacting with Leo, Raph or Mikey. It’s one of the reasons I like the episode Eyes of the Chimera in season 3 so much becasue it focuses on Leo and April bonding! It made me wish April had more duo episodes with each of the turtles, but sadly most of her episodes were either about her and Donnie (in some way), her ninja training (which now that I think about it, we saw very little of) or her connection to the Kraang, and even that was dumped and no longer explored by like the 3rd season.

Maybe that’s just me. Let me know what you all think.

Anyways, back to the rant!

The very first time Donnie sees April with Casey, he immediately jumps to conclusions and assumes she’s on a date and gets mad. Like, dude, you don’t own her! We, the audience, know she wasn’t on a date, she was just tutoring Casey, but imagine for a moment if she was. Donnie has no right to decide who she gets to be with and has no excuse to be mad if she decides not to date him but someone else, because, again, she is a human being not an object! Does he have a right to feel heartbroken? Yes, it's sad seeing your crush with someone else, I and I’m sure many of you can relate. But should he be mad? NO!

The whole love triangle between Donnie, April and Casey was its own dumpster fire and that’s a rant for another post.

I also don't like how it is hinted during the S2 finale that April is aware of Donnie's feelings for her. Now, we could argue (and I agree) that April was not ready for Donnie to confess his feelings, most likely wanting to sort out her own feelings and I respect that, but I wish April was more honest with Donnie later on. I wish she told him to give her time and space instead of letting him think he has a chance, leading him on, and having him continue to obsess over her for 5 freaking seasons! She had many chances to have that conversation with him. Like in season 3...

Oh god, I hate Apritello in season 3, specfically I hate the Big Foot episode. That music box Donnie gave April in the beginning of the epsiode was extremely inappropriate given what those two have been through so far by that point in the show. Donnie, sweetie, you've literally lost the greatest battle of your life, you and your brothers were chased out of your own home and had to leave the city with Leo badly injured and in a coma, and you also witnessed your father's "death" by the hands of your greatest enemy, and you think NOW is the best time to make a move on your crush and give her a gift, who, may I remind you, went through the same exact sh!t you went through?!

THE POOR GIRL DOESNT NEED TO BE HIT ON RIGHT NOW!!

And don't get me started on the farmhouse kiss later in the episode. What a load of bullsh!t! The writers really had me fooled. They really had me think they were going to give Donnie and April actual development in their relationship. They could've had Donnie finally understand and end his inappropriate behavior and obsession towards her and April could finally tell Donnie that she's aware of his feelings and tells him that she does care for him but needs time and space to think her feelings through. This conversation could have helped them grow together and they would eventually get together when both of them are comfortable and ready to start a relationship with one another.

But NOOOO! Let's just have April take all of Donnie's development in that episode and throw it away by freaking kissing him!! Like, what?! Girl, weren't you literally uncomfortable earlier that episode when he was trying to make a move on you with the freaking music box???

It was at that moment I started to hate Apritello, and it makes it come off that April is just playing a game with Donnie, throwing him away and reeling him back in, repeating the action over and over again. Which sucks, because I really wanna like this ship and at times I can see the good qualities. I like April! She has some great moments (both badass and funny) that makes me appreciate her or be happy for her, but her being shipped with Donnie ruined her character for me. I blame the writers.

After the farmhouse kiss, you know what I realized? I realized that the 2012 writers didn't know what they were doing with this relationship and it pissed me off because, again, they had so much potential!

Also the many times April kisses Donnie on the cheek was so random almost ALL of the time.

Her kissing him after she rekindles her friendship with the turtles, pointless but it’s fine.

Her kissing him after he finished creating a retromutagen for her dad, understandable. Could just be a heat of the moment excitement that she probably forgot about later on, but...

The second time in the same episode, the writers were just forcing it at that point/April did that in front of Casey on purpose to make him jealous and you can’t change my mind.

Her kissing him after Fugitoid fixed his bug sting, very random and very pointless. Like, why? What was the point of that happening??

I need to remind everyone who has come this far in reading my rant that I do think the concept of April x Donnie could work. Though I’m not a big fan of shipping April with ANY of the turtles, it can still work, but only if it’s done properly.

Again, 2012 Apritello had great potential, it’s just the writers handle it so poorly. Honestly, Rise Apritello has more chemistry and potential to be the friends to lovers trope in a version where it is intended for them to only be best friends MORE than their 2012 counterpart where they are intended to be friends to lovers.

You know what I wish the 2012 writers did? I wish the writers did a slow burn mixed with the friends to lovers trope. Basically, make them friends first, build from that, and have them slowly fall in love with each other over the course of the series.

For me, I’d make it go like this:

S1 - Donnie and April are friends, but over the course of the season Donnie slowly begins to fall in love with April.

S2 - Donnie now has feelings for April, but he doens’t want to ruin his friendship with her. Also April is dating Casey.

S3 - Everyone knows Donnie likes April. Her and Casey eventually break up but stay friends. April finds out Donnie likes her and now it’s awkward between them.

S4 - Donnie and April both like each other now. They try hard to rekindle their friendship and try to go back to being just friends, but their hearts want something different.

S5 - They finally confess and become a couple! Yay! Happy ending!

If you want to read the longer version of how I’d rewrite 2012 Apritello, you can check it out HERE

I want to thank everyone who has made it this far and has read my entire rant. Feel free to share your own thoughts on 2012 Apritello, but remember to be kind and respecful towards everyones opinion.

#rant #rant post #its my opinion #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #nickelodeon #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #donatello hamato #april o'neil #tmnt april #apirtello

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tales-of-corokina · 6 months

Text

Heyyy guys have a sneak peek of Chapter 26 that I’ve been working on little by little for like two weeks lol

Also I’m at a little dilemma regarding the chapter length so read till the end to help me decide 🙃

(this is like 90% Aloarmy lol)

Word count: 2,011 (unedited)

Running.

Aloha was running.

…

Aloha had made a mistake. He had accidentally revealed himself as a fae in front of all the people in the tavern. Of course, everyone in the tavern at that moment knew that fae were untrustworthy and dangerous. Monsters, even.

It was that moment when Aloha’s perfect life fell into ruins.

“Kill the fae!” somebody called out. Other people quickly joined in, chanting, “Kill the fae! Kill the fae!”

Now would be a good time to run, Aloha thought.

So he did. The front door of the tavern was blocked, but luckily there was a back door, so Aloha ran through that. The crowd chased him as he ran away from the tavern, staying behind the houses and away from the streets. But naturally, other people noticed the crowd chasing after him, and also grabbed their torches and pitchforks. And soon enough there was a huge crowd, nearly the whole town, chasing after Aloha.

Aloha ran and ran. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like jelly, as the townspeople behind him continued to chase him.

After a while, Aloha managed to duck into an alley and hide from the crowd. He could still see the light of their torches from his hiding place. It made his stomach do a somersault, knowing that they now wanted him dead.

“Aloha…?”

It was a familiar voice that said his name.

Aloha turned around to see his best friend. Diver. He looked the same, shaggy pink hair, tanned skin, pointed half-elf ears, a snorkel mask for some reason. But distress was on his face, and his eyes were filled with tears.

Aloha started crying himself. He couldn’t believe his best friend for years was seeing him like this for the first time. His true fae form that he had been hiding all this time.

“Diver…I…” Aloha started to say—

But there was no time for explanation. The angry mob had found Aloha’s hiding place. They were coming after him, and he had to run.

“Aloha…!” Diver called out.

Aloha jumped off of the ground, propelling himself into the air with his wings. The crowd yelled in anger as he flew away. And Diver watched Aloha fly away, confused and distraught.

“I’m sorry…” Aloha said through his tears, looking down at Diver. His apology was so quiet he doubted Diver even heard it. Then he flew away.

…

That was the last time Aloha ever saw Diver.

————————————————————

Aloha woke up with a start, panting as he sat up in his soft bed. As his dream—nightmare—played over and over in his head, he soon realized that he was alone in his bed. Army was gone.

Aloha frantically looked around, confused. That moment last night…it felt so far away and dreamlike. Was it all a dream? Had he really slept with Army at all?

But then Aloha realized that he wasn’t in the bed he had chosen that night. He was at the other side of the room, in Army’s bed. The bed Aloha had originally slept in was now cold, the sheets still ruffled around a bit.

It wasn’t a dream. That really had happened.

Just then, Army walked into the room from the adjoining bathroom, wearing casual clothes that he usually wore under his armor. His eyes landed on Aloha.

“Aloha, are you alright?” Army asked.

Aloha avoided eye contact with Army, stroking the soft sheets. It wasn’t just a nightmare he had had, he realized. It was a flashback. He could still remember the moment that that had actually happened, the same way it had happened in the nightmare.

“I…I had a…dream,” Aloha muttered.

“A bad dream?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Army was sitting on the foot of the bed now. He rested his hand on top of Aloha’s. Somehow, that made Aloha feel a little better.

“It was more of a flashback, I guess,” Aloha said. “I was back…I was back when…” Tears were starting to form in Aloha’s eyes. He could barely talk about this.

“Look, you don't have to talk if it makes you uncomfortable,” Army said. “Just know that I’m here, okay?”

The two were holding hands now, their fingers intertwined. Aloha looked up at Army, who gave him a soft smile. Those orange eyes—like a beautiful sunset—Aloha could stare at them all day.

Then, without thinking much, Aloha wrapped his arms around Army in a hug. His head rested on Army’s shoulder, and he squeezed his eyes shut as tears slid down his face. He then felt the comforting warmth of Army reciprocating the hug.

Which, despite his sadness, made him smile, just a little bit.

Aloha remembered back to when Galax had first found him, wandering around in the forest. Aloha had been so scared, thinking that the purple-haired sage was going to kill him, simply for being a fae. But that wasn’t the case. They just wanted to bring them together with the rest of the S4.

And they had succeeded.

“I’m glad Galax brought us together,” Aloha said, quietly through his tears. “I’m glad fate brought us together.”

Tell Army you love him, Aloha’s brain told him.

But, for whatever reason, Aloha couldn’t bring himself to.

————————————————————

About half an hour later, the S4 was meeting up in the busy dining room of the inn. By this time, Aloha’s sadness had worn off, replaced by his usual loud cheerfulness. Or perhaps he was only masking it, just like he masked his fae traits in public.

“You two glad that there were separate beds this time?” Skull said, addressing Army and Aloha.

“Yeah, we were,” Army said, frowning. But yet, he was blushing.

“Ohh, why are you blushing?~” Skull teased, leaning in closer to Army.

“Oh shut up, Skull,” Army said, cracking a smile through his blush.

Aloha chuckled as he watched Skull and Army’s banter. A thought crossed his mind to say something about his and Avi’s relationship in response—but then he realized that would be pretty insensitive.

As the S4 made casual conversation, Mask was oddly quiet. He wasn’t always very talkative, but something seemed…off. “Mask, are you alright?” Aloha said.

“Oh? Yeah, I’m fiiiiiiiiine,” Mask said, apparently having been pulled out of some kind of trance. “Just…didn’t sleep weeeeeellll.”

“You never sleep very well, huh?” Army said. “I believe there might be magic for that.”

“Maaybeee there’s some kind of speeellll,” Mask muttered.

Mask hesitated for a few moments, and then said, “Do you believe in faaattteee?”

“Oh, well I’ve never really thought about that,” Aloha said. “But I mean, if we’re on a quest from a prophecy, I guess it’s real to some extent, huh?”

“Yeah, well that’s what I was thiiiinnking,” Mask said. “I mean, the prophecy said we’re supposed to save Corokina or whateveeerrr…but do we really have a choooiceeee? Or…is fate inevitable?”

“I don’t know if there’s any escaping fate,” Skull said. “Especially now that we’ve gone so far on this prophetic quest. Maybe everything that’s happened to us was inevitable…”

“Yo, why is this getting so deep all of a sudden—” Aloha said, but he was interrupted.

“Well, fate or not, we’re going to save Corokina,” Army said. “The final battle approaches, and we must be brave. The kingdom needs us!”

“On with his cheesy stuff agaaaaaiin,” Mask muttered.

“Awww, you’re so righteous, Army~” Aloha teased.

“Oh shut up, Aloha,” Army chuckled. Aloha just stuck his tongue out cockily.

“It’s cute when he does that…” Aloha muttered under his breath, looking away from Army and blushing a little. But Army apparently heard that, because he suddenly seemed flustered.

“Oh, look, our breakfast’s here!” Skull said. Indeed, a waiter was approaching the table, carrying trays of food; pancakes with a side of bread and fruit. The party was served their food, and it was quiet for a little bit as they ate. Then the conversation between the four adventurers started up again.

Four adventurers. Four friends.

————————————————————

After a little bit, the dining room suddenly got louder as the other people of the inn started to stir, talking eagerly as they gradually left the inn. Something was definitely going on.

“What’s going on?” Army said to the others, confused.

“Oh, you must be new here,” an inn patron said as they walked past the S4’s table. “The Solstice Festival is starting!”

“Yes, yes, come, come!” another person said next to them. “No use staying here, the festivities are amazing!” The S4 then watched as the two people walked away, as well as many people around them.

“We didn’t even finish our breakfast yet…” Skull said.

“That doesn’t matter!” Aloha exclaimed. “There’s a festival starting now! A party! I bet there’s food, Skull, much better than this! C’mon, let’s go!”

“Alright, everyone,” Army said. “We’ll go to this Solstice Festival. But remember the reason we came here. Not to party, but to follow these evil vampires and stop their evil schemes.”

“Aww, seriously?” Aloha said. “You’re no fun, Army~”

“Oh, Aloha, we can still have fun at the festival,” Army said, rolling his eyes. “But we have to be responsible too. We can’t forget our quest. We can’t let Corokina down!”

“Can’t people hear usss?” Mask muttered. “We’re kind of in the middle of a dining roooomm.”

“No, they’re not focused on us,” Army said. “Now let us go!”

The S4 joined the crowd of people flocking out of the inn, and into the street. And those people weren’t lying when they said a festival was starting. The streets of Inopolis were filled with citizens and tourists alike, and booths lined the edges, selling trinkets and food and even offering some games of chance. Lively music played on every corner, mixing with the sound of people talking and laughing. And the streets were decorated with colorful banners and magical lanterns floating above, pulsing in all the colors of the rainbow. It was a truly magical sight.

“Woooow, look at all this!!” Aloha exclaimed, practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Ooooh, what should we do first? Look at what that person’s selling, that looks cool! Oh look over there, there’s—”

“Okay, everyone, it’s very crowded here, so we have to remember to stick—” Army started to address the S4, but before he got to finish his sentence, he was pulled away by Aloha.

“Aloha, what are you doing?!” Army said.

“Look, there’s people dancing over there!” Aloha exclaimed. “Let’s join them, it’ll be fun!”

“Of course, but we can’t just leave the others!” Army said.

Aloha blew a teasing raspberry. “They’ll be fine, they can find us! Don’t be such a party pooper, Army~”

“I’m not—” Army muttered, but stopped talking when Aloha came to a stop.

The two of them were now surrounded by a large gathering of dancing people, happily dancing to upbeat music being played by nearby musicians, standing on a platform right in front of the Sparkling Spring. Aloha smiled wide and started energetically dancing as well; moving his feet to the music, jumping up and down, flapping his hands a little. He was a really good dancer, of course, but at the moment he didn’t seem to be worried about his moves. He was just enjoying himself.

After a minute or two, Aloha looked to Army, who was just standing there awkwardly, watching Aloha and the other people dance. “What’s the matter?” Aloha asked him.

“I don’t know, it’s just…” Army sighed. “You seem so joyful, in the moment, but—”

“C’mon, you don’t need to be good!” Aloha said, taking Army’s hand. “Just feel the music!”

Aloha was holding both of Army’s hands now, guiding his steps to the beat of the music. Army blushing at the warmth of Aloha’s hands. But as he and Aloha danced hand in hand, Army smiled, closing his eyes joyfully as he felt the lively music around him.

There was still the distant threat of the X-Blood and Emperor, of course. But right now, all Army was focusing on was the present moment, dancing with Aloha.

And it felt wonderful.

…

okay now here’s the dilemma I have

I have like 2-3 scenes planned out for this chapter, but I thought that the chapter would be too long if I put those scenes in, so…

#coroika #coroika au #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #tales of corokina #tales of corokina update #writing #aloarmy #might as well tag that

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beevean · 9 months

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It's kinda funny now that you mentioned how Leon has no connection to Dracula in the show lol. It sounds like he just woke up one day and decided to fight him for no particular reason.

Anyway, what's your opinion on Sonia Belmont? Ik you've been talking about LoI a lot so I'm curious what you think about the previous "first Belmont".

He did lol

"Belmont isn't even a Wallachian name. That just dawned on me." "No. The family's originally from the Kingdom of France. But we moved out of there a few hundred years ago." "Moved or chased?" "Moved, thank you very much." "With people behind you waving pitchforks and torches?" "No. No, we're professionals. We move where the work is." "What does that even mean?" "All the dark things moved into the east. I think it was a Leon Belmont who entered the region first. And he built this house, and dug the foundations for everything under it."

"An archive of everything we've found and learned since the days of Leon Belmont." "What was your Leon Belmont doing in Wallachia?" "Hunting Dracula."

(do not ask me who says what. The scripts I found are absolute shit when it comes to formatting, and I doubt this clip is on YT, and forgive me for not wanting to rewatch a whole episode of NFCV just to assign names. But you can guess that the asshole is Alucard. He calls the Belmonts "mentally ill hoarders" ugggggh shut your entire fuck up i hate that guy!)

But yeah. Leon one day decided to move from France to Wallachia because he... heard about Dracula, I suppose, or was attracted by the "dark things" moving east. Considering that, again, it's implied that multiple Belmonts tried to go against Dracula but all failed, this Leon ruined his family even more than the real one jdfkljfsdkf

I didn't play Legends, and I heard it's a rather mediocre game overall lol. The idea of a female Belmont is interesting, and she also has a cute design, but I don't mind her being retconned from the timeline as the first one who killed Dracula... mostly because the game just had to imply that she and Alucard would have children together, and the idea that 1) Alucard fathered a child, and 2) all the Belmonts after her are related to Dracula... is a tad awkward 💀 cancelling the Dreamcast game that was supposed to have her and Victor was just mean, though.

#anti netflixvania

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racfoam · 1 year

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I have 8k words just for Sirius’ death that I know would make everyone sob and I just can’t use it because I know you all would come after me with torches and pitchforks if Sirius died in nynn.

What am I supposed to do with the 8k poetic angst and sadness that I wanted to use to make everyone bawl their eyes out and cry themselves to sleep?

You guys never let me have fun

In my defense, I think Sirius would rather die than witness Voldemort kissing Harry but also his reaction is priceless so he should live just to witness that.

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kivaember · 2 months

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🤡?

Which scenes did I find funny when writing...

Ohhh I have quite a few! But if I had to pick, it'd tied between two scenes: the P5 Necroprancer fic I wrote as a parody horseboy Goro fic, and the Freud thinking Rusty and O'Keeffe are boyfriends in Decoding. (You can check out the Necroprancer fic here!)

Choice scene from Necroprancer:

“... to be honest,” the necromancer said after a long pause, “I’m tempted to do it for free. This is going to be a disaster and I want to see how it plays out.” Goro frowned. “People kick up a fuss when you enter undead animals into competitions,” Akira clarified. “But it’s not against the rules,” Goro said. “Oh, it isn’t,” Akira agreed. “But people complain regardless. Pitchforks and torches get involved, sometimes, that’s always fun.” Goro was unmoved. “I’m not afraid to shank people to defend my victory.” “Jesus Christ,” Akira said, and shook his head, “Well, if you’re sure, I have a list of items I need to start the ritual.” The necromancer procured a shopping list on his phone, and it went something like this: a handful of daisies, a dash of ginger, a human heart, something that was redacted, and the corpse in question you wanted to reanimate. “Why the daisies and ginger?” Goro asked. “Daisies for fortitude and ginger for strength,” Akira answered. “You need to fortify the horse’s spirit and its body for the reanimation process. It’s, uh, kinda rough of them.” Goro eyed him suspiciously. “Body parts fall off,” Akira admitted guiltily. “Sometimes.” “Loki needs all four legs,” Goro said very severely. “I’ll use extra ginger,” Akira mumbled, and annotated that on his phone. Next was the human heart. Normally, such things were expensive and difficult to procure, as you had to deal with the black market for such things (or be willing to get your hands dirty). Akira only began to explain the potential avenues Goro could take to procure a heart when the rider waved him off with a “oh, I have one spare.” “You have one… spare,” Akira repeated. “Well, we’ll need to dig it up first,” Goro amended, and pointed towards the edge of his paddock. “Over there, the hunter that shot my horse. I buried him in a shallow grave. His heart should be sort of fresh.” Akira stared at him for a moment. “You’re a little scary,” the necromancer finally said. “And I deal with demons on a daily basis.” “If this frightens you, then perhaps you should stick to reanimating dead pets,” Goro sneered, and started for the shallow grave. “Come on. Help me dig this trash up.”

And choice scene from Decoding:

Freud leaned forwards, as if imparting a great secret, and said: “I know what you are…” Rusty’s heart stuttered to a halt. It had been easy to forget in the moment, but Freud was still a threat. It didn’t matter what hidden depths there were, what unhealthy level of power Arquebus exercised over Freud’s life - in the end, he was intelligent and dangerous, fixated on Rusty with an interest that threatened to ruin almost ten years of hard work. Rusty had lowered his guard, thoughtlessly forgotten the threat he posed, and he was paying the price now. He’d likely known from the beginning, hadn’t he? That Rusty was a spy. From the moment he had appeared in front of his apartment that morning, Freud had been watching and waiting, missing nothing, and had waited until now, until a seemingly loyal member of Arquebus was seated next to them to voice his suspicions - with no way of knowing how O’Keeffe would handle this. This wasn’t some random guy, this was Freud. O’Keeffe couldn’t just blow off Freud. O’Keeffe would do what was necessary for him to survive, and he had told him plainly that if Rusty fucked himself over, there’d be no help from that corner. He was fucked. So utterly fucked. Rusty felt all the blood drain from his face as he processed his inevitable failure, his vision going strangely grey. He stared, wide-eyed and pale and barely breathing, as Freud said the damning words of: “...you’re O’Keeffe’s boyfriend.” Rusty opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. “...what?” he croaked. “You’re O’Keeffe’s boyfriend,” Freud said solemnly - heavily. Almost disappointed, really. He wasn’t smiling. His mouth was downturned into a slight pout, and his eyes were dark and morose. He didn’t look vindicated at potentially catching Rusty in the act of distasteful fraternisation, though. If anything, he looked like he’d regretted saying anything at all, his expression falling into a very rare and somewhat unnerving pout. “Boyfriend,” Rusty repeated distantly, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. “Boyfriend.” “Boyfriend,” O’Keeffe echoed, lacking any and all emotion. “Boyfriend.” Freud nodded seriously. “Boyfriend.” They all stared at each other in total silence. “............I have standards.” Was literally the only thing Rusty could think to say. “And he doesn’t meet them.”

#fanfic ramblings #ask game #i really do enjoy writing comedy scenes #especially in serious fic sometimes #bc you need that relieving of tension or just a breather in general #can't keep cranking the tension without some relief ya know?

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konako · 1 year

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(*･ω･)ﾉ”┌iii┐♡ HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

Here, have a silly little Red Snow scene. We are at the Welcome Back Party in S2. (Ah, look at sad!Regina in the background.)

Ruby walked into the back towards the bathrooms, even though she didn’t need to go. She just wanted a minute away from the others. Because she felt like she was clinging to Snow… Mary Margaret… oh this was a problem. Having her back brought this thing up again. How they hadn’t been friends. Until recently maybe. Ruby knew where she was in the process of bringing Ruby and Red together, and it wasn’t exactly hard, but what about Snow?

“Hey.”Ruby turned away from the window and saw Snow. “Hey yourself.”

“Is there anything you need help with?” Ruby looked down the hall. “You saw me going towards the toilets and wondered if I need help? Maybe I don’t want to know every detail of your trip back home or the things you had to show Emma.”

Snow laughed as she got closer. “Don’t remind me. I missed indoor plumbing.” She stopped in front of Ruby and put her hands on her upper arms. “I missed you.”

Ruby leaned forward so their foreheads touched. “Missed you, too.”

“I need you to tell me everything that went on while we were gone. I’m sure David will leave some things out.” Snow’s voice was only a low whisper.

Ruby closed her eyes and matched her tone. “He was devastated the portal closed right in his face, you know. We needed him here, but the thought of you two being split up again was awful.”

“David said you helped him to keep it together.”

“That was mutual.”

“I know that I missed a full moon…” Snow let the sentence linger. Ruby debated with herself how much she should reveal. This being a joyous getting back together party. But the way her shoulders tensed up at the mention probably gave away a lot already.

Ruby took a step back and leaned against the window frame. “First of all I want to say I’m sorry that my whole wolf thing helped Regina to frame you, or Mary Margaret, for murder. You know, finding the heart and all.”

Snow playfully rolled her eyes. “Bygones. It all worked out. And hey, I know, if your wolf thing had been in full force, you would have known that wasn’t a human heart right away.” They both laughed. Even though this simple truth was rooted in a dark place. Red knew the smell of blood. Human blood. And the small differences between that and various animals.

“Anyway, I’m bringing that up, because I had my own little accusation arc and you probably won’t be very proud of me when you hear the full story.” Snow raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, but settled in next to Ruby, eager to listen. “King George, I mean Spencer, he had it out for David–”

“He said he was dealt with. No longer a threat.”

“Yes. But it was a hard earned victory. He killed Billy.”

“Mechanic Billy?”

“Yes.”

“Billy is dead?”

“Yes. And for a moment I believed I did that.”

“Oh, Red…” Just hearing her name coming out of Snow’s mouth made it all real again. The fear of hurting others, killing innocent people, murdering a loved one - the past was locked up in the way Snow put compassion into addressing her. The hand reaching up touching her shoulder didn’t help.

“So, hey, I was framed for murder, too. One more for sharing experiences. Although I fully believed I did it and that the mob had a right to chase me…”

“A mob? In Storybrooke? Like going after Regina? All torches and pitchforks? Are there even that many pitchforks here?”

“Surprisingly…”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to yell at you for being stupid.”

Ruby chuckled. “There were people trying to step up.”

“I wonder what Mulan would think about a whole town chasing a wolf around.”

“Mulan? Dressing-as-a-guy-to-defeat-an-evil-army-Mulan?”

“Yes, that one.”

“I love that movie. Huh. How unfair. Did she-”

“There was no little dragon.”

“How disappointing.” Ruby faked a little pout. “Well, I collected a new Disney princess myself. Turns out Belle is real, too.”

“Oh, don’t tell me she is the reason I saw the open library earlier.” Snow smirked. “Was she with you that night?”

“Huh?”

Snow hit Ruby in the side with her elbow. “When you wolfed out. Did you two have a little Beauty and the Beast moment?”

“What?” Ruby’s laugh was forced, nervousness shining through as if she had been caught. Although she was unsure doing what. “Well, yes, I mean, no, I chained her up in the library.”

Snow looked at Ruby. Blinking slowly. “I think we need to start at the beginning.”

“There you are!” David interrupted the two. “Please don’t make me look for you at a party about finding back to each other.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Snow got up and pulled Ruby along by the hand. “Red just told me something about chains, maybe she can help.”

#Are you blessed with a friend that shares your love for MULTIPLE SHIPS??? NO?? YOU'RE MISSING OUT!! GET YOURSELF ONE!!!#thank you kattttttt I cry #red snow #ruby lucas #fic rec #star #snow white #ouat #once upon a time

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grapecaseschoices · 1 year

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Band name, albums, and persona for all of your infamous mcs!! (Or whoever you’d like!!!)

Band name: How did they and the others come up with the band name? Has the name changed since it was founded?

I answered Lala here and Ori here.

Alana: Promised Promises.

Because I like pain, I feel the band name started with Alana and Seven. Essentially, just two young kids promising to be best friends forever (punctuated with their pinkies locked and kissing the other's thumb). Maybe they used to say cute things to each other like: 'Promisies?' (Alana probably started it and Seven fondly, exasperatedly, laughingly jumped into it because it made Alana laugh in turn) 'Are you a promiser?' Or 'I promised promised'. And so the band name came to be. Alana would rather die than change it.

Bethany Josnel: The Notations

No. I feel BJ's band name started the same reason I picked it oocly. It made me think of the Temptations, he's an r&b dude, and he plays the piano, lol.

I imagine people church probably played a lot of soul and OG R&B. Little Seven and BJ walking home from BJ's choir practice (that Seven hung around at) singing 'My Girl' to each other (not yet realizing my girl would mean my guy/my boy in about ten years). I think originally they had considered something more homage like, maybe something similar to the Ruinations (sounds pretty metal) or the Inclinations (they found a thesaurus) -- but maybe the wording 'musical notation' came up in a conversation, or they overheard it, and they looked at each other and new. And so it stuck.

Hiyam: The Vespas.

Yes. And surprisingly it was NOT after Seven left. Very early on the were known as Brimstones (aka Gonepteryx rhamni); Rown and Seven's urge to satisfy Hiyam's obsession with all flying/winged beings and still sound cool (she would rather die than admit it, but Hiyam thinks maybe it's a good thing they didn't go with Flying Squirrels). But it didn't last too long. Partially because people kept getting disappointed at a pop group called Brimstones and partially because people started calling Hiyam Bitches (instead of witch) and Brimstone .... and Seven couldn't fight everyone who insulted her girlfriend, so.

Albums: What are some of the albums the band has released? Are they a consistent style? What themes did they explore?

(Really making me dig up and ponder my notes huh? ;-P)

Lala

First EP was Pitchforks & Torches, First Album Here Kitty Kitty. P&T was really just a sample of sound. It was eclectic but not messy; it was eclectic in the sense that it was a nod to their origins and each song focused on two or more different band members' strengths. But the flow was good and the song titles followed the band theme. I think the best way to call it was alternate but the folk influences were there.

Then Here Kitty Kitty came out and though it was still alternative, still a bit folky, it veered hard into more an alternative hip hop sound. Though, the genre was different, the base was the same. You can definitely see that highlighting various band members vibe, still feel that twang, and that adventerous yet rebelliously nonchalant (nonchalantly rebellious) vibe of the EP. Their second album self titled DramaWh*re is another turn, away from the alternative and more folk, more twang, more southern. It focuses a bit more on Lala's vocals but not enough to push the band into acoustics land -- they've always been about supporting the group/doing what's best for it. It is a surprise but it's not a surprise.

As stated, there's a rebellious edge to a lot of DramaWh*re's songs. It is about making trouble and having fun, but not letting that overtake you. In the same name of having trouble and making fun, they like to dive into some ~sexiness~. Maybe a bit of spicy, a dip of romance. You can't fuck around without some fucking, after all. So DramaWhore's stuff (as the name implies) tends to be explicit.

Ori

Gains genre/vibe, as I like to term it is, Gympop or Himbro Punk Rock (aka synthpop). And though they've definitely touched into other genres (eletronic, indie pop/rock, pop punk etc), that's their heart. Whether they're singing about summertime sunshine, video games, doing reps, or badly flirting with people at a club, that's the base of their sound -- synthpop ........ and making sure people are having fun. While Lala's fun energy tends to read more let's bungee jump the grand canyon or yolo, let's go on stage half drunk and sing about our ex (daring, messy, a touch cocky); Ori's fun is more bonfire turn beach rave -- do a keg stand and pull out the glowsticks. It's silly, it's goofy, and it's energetic. Honestly, that's not just their vibe but also what they sing about (they probably have a song called glowstick ....)

A lot of their songs is about being down on your luck but still pushing through it: appreciate life, your loved ones, and everything in between. Maybe you're a loser but at least you're still living, dude.

Persona: How does their day-to-day personality compare to their on-stage persona?

Hiyam

Hiyam very much gives off the 'I'm the bitch you married' vibes (never seen gone girl, going off the gifs). And that is just a correct estimation of her personality. She might actually worse off stage? Like ruder. Because you want to beguile them on stage, right? On stage Hiyam is look at the sway of my hips, the turn of my hands, listen to my powerful vocals -- I make you want to come and go. Off stage Hiyam is MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY.

Man, IDK. I'm tired. Personally I don't see them as overly too different. Hiyam struts on stage because she's just as arrogant off. She takes center and allures with her powerful vocals, and she's someone who will tell you what she feels (except if you're Orion) off stage. And because she knows she's the star. All eyes remain on her -- for better and for worse. She's audacious on and off. And she's definitely still a fashionista.

Actually, though, after doing this I really do think she's NICER on stage qwert lmao.

#meet my infamous mcs #meet my ocs #straightuppotatoo-art #oc: lala sandoval #oc: ori zhou #oc: hiyam vinke #oc: josnel coleman #oc: alana carita #i hope yall realize some of this is subject to changing #bc i have all the memory and none of the determination of a cat instantly returning to yeet itself a pan of oil after having its face #pushed aside two seconds ago #thanks for the ask hun #<3 #so sorry it took me forever to get back to this!#also sorry this is super duper long #i didnt answer this for all of them. i didnt want to take any longer to get back to you. or else i'd have to pause this again #maybe one day i'll come back and do as much

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

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bowling shoes (franklin/reader)

Title: Bowling Shoes

Request: yes! It was requested by the wonderful @sunlight-moonrise

Couple: franklin (mgg’s role in beginner’s luck)/fem!reader

Category: smut

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (degradation, praise kink, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, little bit of cockwarming ;), spanking, heavy petting, slight humiliation (i think), spitting, hair pulling, groping, creampie/unprotected sex, fingering, penetrative sex), dom!franklin, kissing/making-out, swearing, implied age gap (but they never specify Franklin’s age. So idk) (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, PLEASE let me know!!)

Word Count: 4,224

Summary: Reader is new in town and works at her grandfather’s bowling alley, where some people spend late nights practicing for the town-wide bowling competition.

A/N: The third day of my seven days of seven fics! This particular one shot has been sitting in my wip list since September 2020. And I just finally decided to write it. This was written with matthew gray gubler’s character from the short film Beginner’s Luck. If you haven’t seen it yet I highly recommend watching it bc it’s amazing and I love Franklin. I hope you’re all enjoying the 7 days 7 fics! I really cranked it out on all of these oneshots! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support!

{***}{***}{***}

Little Falls… I never understood this town's love for bowling… and I probably never will… It’s probably a good thing that I moved from Little Falls before I got old enough to actually learn how to bowl, mostly because if I did, and I didn’t bowl, I’d probably be chased out of town with a crowd of pitchforks and torches.

So, it’s probably an even better thing that I just work at the town’s precious bowling alley. But, to be fair… This alley has been in the family since it opened.

Long story short, I hate bowling. I just needed extra cash, and my grandfather just so happens to pay me extra. Not because I’m fami-No that’s exactly why...

“You are busting my balls here!” A man shouted from the lanes. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked in that direction, looking for the owner of the shouts. I gently placed the pair of shoes down on the counter before walking around to the lanes. “You can’t be serious!” A guy wearing a yellow bowling shirt was shouting down the lane he was standing on.

“Is… Is everything okay?” I leaned against the half-wall beside me. I propped my arms on top of the wall as I looked at him. I looked across the tables behind the lanes and noted there was only one other person, who was watching the man with such intent I was sure they’d kill him. “It’s just you playing,” I half-laughed at the guy. He spun around on his toes and pointed a finger at me. I tried to not take it as accusatory, but everything in my body was telling me he meant it as such.

“I would have gotten that pin down if it wasn’t for you,” he half-shouted at me. I lifted my hands as some form of surrender as I stepped down to the lanes. The guy in the yellow bowling shirt looked at me and cocked his head.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just came down here to see if everything was alright… And if it was, I was just going back to work… Cleaning smelly rental, bowling shoes,” I gestured back towards the counter where a pile of rental shoes was sitting, waiting to be cleaned. “I just heard all the shouting down here and wanted to make sure someone wasn’t fighting with the balls,” I shrugged as I looked up at him. My joke about the balls was only mildly humorous if you knew that there were only 3 people in total in the alley. Myself, the angry stranger, and his unusual friend.

Glasses that kinda reminded me a little of Jeffery Dahmer sat on the tip of his nose, and just under his nose was a porn-stache. And the way he styled his hair just looked like a mop sitting on his head. But there was something, I don't know, attractive (I guess it was attractive) about this man. A certain handsomeness that I couldn’t exactly describe.

“No, no, no one was fighting with the balls,” he spoke as he stepped closer to me. He looked down at me with a smile before resting both his hands on my shoulder. I sighed deeply as I stared up at him. “Now, go, run along… You said you have rental shoes to clean,” he smiled as he turned me around to face the 3 steps behind us.

“Hold on,” I stepped away from him and turned back to face him. I had to crane my neck up to meet his stare, him being nearly a foot taller than me. “I can easily kick you out of here,” I scoffed as I looked at his shirt, finally noticing the patch sewn into the pocket of his shirt. The name Franklin was stitched into the patch with black thread in a fancy script. “Franklin,” I looked up at him and smiled. The cocky and smug expression on his face faltered for a moment as he looked at me.

“Oh, aren’t you’re so cute,” he brought his hands to rest on my cheeks before squeezing them together, pushing my lips out. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?” he asked as he cocked his head to look down at me. I couldn’t exactly answer with my words, so I just nodded lightly. My eyes never left his face, and his never left mine.

“There’s just one thing you’re missing then. I own this place. This bowling alley... Is mine,” he kept his voice low as he spoke and the smugness returning, “Do you understand, Sunshine,” he asked, the condescension in his tone really coming out with the pet name he used. I tried to laugh and shake my head before I pulled away from his grasp. I stumbled back, nearly falling over the steps behind me.

“Since when are you my grandpa?” I asked, cocking my head to my shoulder. I could feel a teasing smile grow on my lips as I looked at him. His face shifted from being very smug to being shocked. “Yeah, bet you didn’t see that one coming… Did ya, Franklin,” I smiled at him.

Franklin stepped back away from me but kept his stare on my face. “You’re not Hank’s grandkid. I would know when his grandkid would be here,” he pointed at me as he backed away from me. I snickered and shrugged.

“Well, you’d be wrong,” I smiled as I folded my arms over my chest. Franklin looked over his shoulder at his companion, seeking some sort of backup. But it was clear that she had no intentions in answering, she was far too busy just admiring him. How did he not see this as uncomfortable and wrong?

“Aw, now you’re intimidated by the bowling alley girl? I don’t even bowl,” I scoffed before pulling my eyes off him, “I just work here,” I laughed. Franklin looked genuinely offended by my statement. Again, I don’t understand this town’s love for bowling.

“I’m sorry… What did you just say?” he looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows. Oh, I really did offend him… Do I feel sorry? Not really...

“Oh, yeah, you heard that right. It’s stupid. And, frankly, Franklin, I don’t understand how a town so quaint is so obsessed with throwing a ball at some plastic things,” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. He stepped closer to me, and for the briefest of moments, I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. And suddenly a tension was in the air between us. It was suffocating. “Did I make you mad? Did I piss poor Fwankwin off,” I furrowed my eyebrows and pouted, "Did I huwt your feewings," my head falling back as I broke into a fit of laughter.

“Be quiet,” Franklin scoffed as he stared at me. I felt my smile become a little smug as I looked up at him.

“Oh? Really? Why don’t you make me?” I shrugged and stepped closer to him. We were so close, breathing each other’s air. One step from either of us and our chests would be pressed together. Our toes, however, were touching. His rented bowling shoes barely standing on my canvas shoes.

That was when the air tensed even more. But, the level of tension shifted from an awkwardness… to a certain awkward-sexual tension. I personally loved it because he’s a dick. Men like him need to be messed with. Plus, I’m bored...

“Is that what you want me to do?” his voice was lower than before. My smile fell away and I swallowed roughly. I could feel my heart in my throat, cutting off any words I wanted to say. “Oh, I see how it is. All that snark and attitude is fake. Because the second someone… An older man, maybe, says something… It goes away,” he smirked as he slowly brought a hand to my face. I went to move my face away from his touch, but failed when he forced me to look at him.

“You’re a brat,” he whispered as he kept his eyes on me. A shiver went down my spine and I had to press my legs together, slightly shifting my feet. I stared at him with wide eyes, feeling my breathing pick up slightly.

And the moment was ruined before I even got the chance to say something. It seemed as if we both had forgotten something. Rather, someone.

“We should get going, Franklin,” a voice asked from behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he closed his eyes and pulled his hand from my face. It was obvious we both forgot that someone else was here. We were both so involved with each other that we just forgot about his companion. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he opened his eyes and looked at me, sighing deeply before speaking.

"I'm gonna be here late. You should just go home," Franklin spoke to his companion but kept his eyes strictly on me. His friend looked up at him like he was some sort of celebrity. I wasn’t exactly sure why she was staring at him like that. He wasn’t a god or anything. Unless he was, then I’d be screwed.

"It's okay. I can wait,” she smiled as she longingly looked at him. I looked back at Franklin before nodding to his friend. I’m starting to think she wasn’t even a friend of his… just a creepy and overly-devoted fan. I don’t think Franklin even noticed her obsession. “I’ll always wait for you, Franklin,” she murmured. I shifted on my foot before I stepped back.

“Bomber,” he spoke, turning to look at her. He looked down at her, his eyes telling her to leave. I only know that because Bomber (I suppose that’s her name) gathered her things and quickly left the alley. “Sorry, now where were we, Sunshine?”

“Your friend seems nice,” I muttered, looking away from him for a brief moment. Franklin scoffed out a laugh before shaking his head.

“She’s not a friend, just a teammate,” his voice was low as he brought a hand back to my face. Part of me was expecting him to be gentle, and I’m not really sure why I thought that. So when he jerked my head back up to look at him, I was left in shock. “But, that wasn’t where we left off. Bomber’s gone now,” he dropped his head down and looked at me through his eyelashes.

“Which means we’re alone now,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He smiled and nodded lightly before bringing my face closer to his.

“Now you’re getting it,” he returned the whisper before harshly pressing his lips to mine. I couldn’t help but moan as he pulled me closer to his body. It was so hard to keep my focus on the world around us. My knees carefully buckled beneath me. If it weren’t for Franklin, I probably would have fallen to the ground. He stood his ground firm, like he was a brick wall in the wind, keeping me upright as I almost fell to the ground.

He moved his face away from mine, but we were still close enough to feel each other’s breath. Franklin moved his free hand to my hip before carefully pushing it past the waistband of my pants. My body shifted slightly, trying to get more of his touch against me.

“The… The door,” I whispered, my eyes going to the door. Although, I truthfully didn’t care too much about the door and it being unlocked. The bowling alley closes in 5 minutes anyways.

“Who cares about the fucking door,” he muttered. I instantly looked back at him, feeling a whimper work its way out of my mouth. Franklin smiled as he moved his hand against the flimsy cotton blocking his hand from where I wanted it most.

“Please,” I whispered, moving my hips against his hand. I hated the way he smiled. Mostly because it only further turned me on.

“Ohh, you’re such a needy slut. So wet and I’ve barely done anything,” he whispered as he squeezed my cheeks again. “You’ll get what you want, in due time,” he smiled. He pushed my underwear to the side and carefully moved his fingers between my folds. I couldn’t help myself as I ground down on his hand.

“Franklin,” I whimpered, my eyebrows furrowing slightly. He smirked, watching as I struggled for a moment. His finger slowly moving around the sensitive bud at the apex of my legs. My hands quickly held his arms, I was worried I’d fall if I didn’t hold onto him. My legs and knees became more and more wobbly as time passed.

“Don’t cum till I tell you you can, Pretty Girl,” he whispered and pouted, “how about you open that pretty little mouth of yours, Sunshine,” he whispered, moving one of his hands to rest on my chin. I widened my eyes and took a deep breath.

I kept my eyes on him, a shaky breath leaving me, as I slowly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. Franklin smiled slightly before holding my cheeks and spitting right onto my tongue. He nudged my mouth shut, forcing me to hold his spit in my mouth for a moment. I had to force myself not to gag as I held his spit before swallowing it.

“What a good little whore,” Franklin cooed, cocking his head to his shoulder. I took a shaky breath as his movements in my pants picked up pace. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at me. I wanted to have a snarky reply, I really did. But I swear to god, my mouth and body betrayed me because an honest to god moan came from me.

“Oh, you certainly did enjoy that,” he laughed as his movements in between my legs quickened. I looked up at him with wide eyes as a familiar tension grew in my abdomen.

But instead of saying anything else, he just put his mouth over mine, swallowing whatever sounds emitted from my mouth. He smiled, clearly enjoying my mild suffering.

My body struggled to move, almost missing the sign of Franklin moving. On wobbly legs, my feet carried me backwards, and with Franklin's guidance, up the steps. My arms were wrapped around his neck to keep close to him.

I was so close, I could feel the tension about to snap within me. The noises that were coming from me were becoming more desperate the closer I got to the snap. Franklin didn't seem bothered by my sounds at all. In fact, he was amused.

He was so amused, that when he pulled his hands from my pants and pushed me over the counter, he laughed when I cried out. I wasn't sure the sound was from annoyance from him stopping, or from shock from being pushed down over the counter. His hand was firmly placed on my back, keeping me in place.

“What was that for!?” I shouted, trying to stand back up, only to be forced back down by Franklin, “You better do something better than leaving me high and dry! I swear to God!” I shouted as I wiggled my butt into his crotch. A certain hardness pressed into my butt and leg, causing me (and Franklin) to hold back a groan. Franklin’s hand was still around my waist, planted firmly on my hip to hold me against him. “Please, just fuck me already! Fuck!” I shifted my feet a bit and tightly pressed my thighs.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Franklin laughed as he shoved his knee between my legs, blocking his foot between mine to keep my legs apart more, “If you’re going to finish, you’re gonna finish on my cock. You got that, Sunshine?” he groaned as he pressed his front into my butt more. I bit my lips together, nodded and whined, hoping that was a good enough answer. “Uh huh, use your words, Sunshine. Do you understand that?” he asked as he leaned closer to my ear.

“Yes! Yes, I understand! Please,” I whimpered as his grip loosened on my hip and moved to the button of my jeans. I let out a deep relieved sigh as my jeans fell to the ground around my ankles. Although my moment of relief and excitement was cut short by a loud crack in the air, and a sudden pain on my bottom.

“Fuck!” I gasped once I finally regained the ability to talk and breathe. My chest began heaving as my body started to get more worked up. The sudden smack on my ass went straight to my core, causing me to involuntarily moan. Franklin laughed lightly, and I could just see him shaking his head in amusement.

“What do you want, Sunshine?” Franklin asked, his voice low, lower than before. I swallowed roughly before lifting my head slightly.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, trying hard to look over my shoulder at him. His glasses were slipping down his nose, and his hair was covering his eyes. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and swept across his lower lip.

“Wrong,” he muttered before striking my butt again. A pleased shriek fell from my lips as I dropped my head down to the counter. “What do you want,”

“Franklin, please,” my words were soft as my breathing got rougher, “Fuck me, please, do… Do whatever you-you want… To me,” my statement was punctuated by another strike on my ass. A mix of a cry and a moan escaped my lips as he gently rubbed the sore spot on my bottom. But it was only a moment before he smacked my other butt cheek.

“Do it again! Please,” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. I waited for his hand to make contact with my bare bottom again, but instead, I got nothing. I sucked in a deep breath before letting out a soft whimper, “Please,” I begged as I swayed my hips slightly from side to side. I hoped my begging would have given me what I wanted. But at this point, I’m not sure what I wanted more, to be fucked by him, or to be spanked by him over, and over again.

After he spanked my butt for the 6th time, Franklin’s hand grazed over each cheek before lightly dragging his fingers over my core.

“You’re so wet, Sunshine,” he whispered as he moved his fingers over my cunt. Any response I thought I had gone out the window when he pushed two fingers into my entrance. So, I guess my response came in as a moan. “Fuck,” he groaned with pleasure.

I was in trouble. He knew that too. The way he was playing with me, toying with me to get even the slightest reaction. Trying to get me as close as possible, without actually getting me over the edge. But whenever he curled his fingers just right, or just slightly touched my clit.

“I-I’m so close,” I cried, my body moving closer to him. Franklin laughed again as he pulled his hand away from my body. This was the first time tonight that he wasn’t touching me. His hands were away from me, and as I tried to move closer to him I found nothing.

“Stay still, I want to remember this moment,” Franklin muttered as he rested a hand on my lower back, “Are you ready, Sunshine,” he asked, his tone seemed gentle. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Mmm-hmm, yes,” I nodded, feeling my hair move around before finally falling around my face. My body shivered as the sound of his zipper went down. And my body jerked once his hands were on my hips.

I folded my arms on the counter. But what I should have done was brace myself against it in a better way. My body’s excitement was getting the better of me, and I could feel myself stray from the counter, and slowly towards his body.

“Stay still,” he muttered as he pushed me closer to the counter. My lungs ceased to function as I felt him rub the head of his cock against my slit. I choked back a moan and pressed my lips together. And then he slowly began pushing into my entrance.

“Oh god,” I cried, pressing my face into my arms.

“Name’s Franklin, but God works just fine,” he laughed behind me as he slowed his entrance. I gasped as he stopped, before slamming fully into me in one go. I couldn’t stop the shout that came from the pit of my stomach.

Once we were both used to each other, he started moving, his hips quickly finding a rhythm we were both pleased with. The silent room was quickly occupied by the grunts or moans from its only two occupants, and the sound of skin hitting skin.

I slowly lifted my head, looking out at the bowling alley. Is it bad that I didn’t think that this was weird or bad? That I was being fucked over the counter by a guy I just met? What would my grandfather think if he ever knew about this? Good thing he was never going to find out.

Franklin wrapped my hair around his hand before pulling me back up so my back was flush against his chest. His movements stilled, his hips pressed against mine as he stayed totally in me. My body froze like ice as I tried to take a deep breath. My senses were suddenly overwhelmed, and I honestly loved it.

“Fuck,” I cried, pushing my hips against him to get some sort of relief. But I only groaned as he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me still as well. “Please,”

“So greedy, so filthy,” Franklin groaned as he buried himself deeper into me. I whimpered as I bit my lips. The bitter, metallic taste of blood found its way to my tastebuds. “How does that feel? Does it feel good,” his voice was so low, nearly a growl in my ear. I sucked in a deep breath of air, slowly turning my face to look at him. “Just holding my cock in you?” he asked before pressing his lips harshly to the side of my face.

“I… I do…” I spoke quickly and in a harsh whisper. My muscles clenched around him, wanting something to give me help for my finish. While Franklin kept his lips pressed to the side of my face, while his hands were otherwise preoccupied. One hand was holding one of my breasts, gently kneading at it. While the other was between my legs, slowly moving around my sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, please move,” I whimpered, pressing my shoulder into his shoulder a bit more. Franklin removed his hand from my chest before gently pushing me back over the counter. I let out a pleased moan once he started moving his hips again. It only took a matter of moments before the tension in me snapped, sending me over the edge. My vision turned white, and my hands balled into fists, my nails would cause indentations in my palms once my hands relaxed.

And, after a few more faulty thrusts into me, Franklin finished close behind me. His body hunched over mine, his hands holding himself up on the counter beside me. Neither of us wanted to move, still trying to calm down from what just happened. But also, the mess to follow once he finally stepped away from me.

“I didn’t know I needed that,” I truthfully stated. Franklin laughed before standing upright. I’d be lying if I said I wanted him to step away from me. So when he eventually did, I held back the whimper.

“Paper towels?” he asked as he fixed himself back into his pants. I swallowed roughly as I blindly pointed towards where I was cleaning the rental bowling shoes. He stepped away from me, going to grab the things he sought after.

The mixture of the two of us slowly leaked down my inner thigh, and I just knew that mess would not be fun to clean, now or later. When Franklin returned and wiped a damp paper towel up my thigh, I jumped.

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked as he helped me stand up straight. My legs and knees were so shaky, I almost fell. He wrapped his arms around me to keep me upright. I only struggled a little bit to pull my jeans and underwear back up, but I was very relieved when they were back around my waist.

“I had a great time,” he laughed. I swallowed roughly before stepping back away from him. I hoisted myself up so I was sitting on the counter, only to let out a sharp cry and jump off the counter. How the fuck did I forget about the pain on my ass?

“Did it feel like winning?” I asked, feeling a smile grow on my lips. Franklin looked up at me with a sly smile, cocking his head to his shoulder.

“I always win in this bowling alley, Sunshine,” he muttered as he stared at me. I blinked slowly. “Except for that one time. But every time after… Always a win,”

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow posts stuff #shadow writes stuff #franklin #franklin smut #franklin fanfiction #franklin fanfic #franklin x reader #beginners luck #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gray gubler smut #masterlist

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